Hunting Moon
by Lady Black Mage
Summary: The Turtles find a new friend in the headstrong Diana Charday, hunted by a greedy businessman, and watched over by a mysterious, supernatural entity. But can she be trusted...? Based on the 2003 4Kids! cartoon. Warning! Contains: Language, violence, OCs, and mild OCxCanon.
1. Prologue

A/N: I do not own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2003) or any of the elements related to TMNT in any way, shape, or form. Only Diana Charday, her father, and Derek Collins belong to me.

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><p><span>Prologue<span>

Derek Collins clenched his jaw in barely suppressed anger as he surveyed the teenager before him. He wanted nothing more than to take his nine-iron and beat her head until her skull caved in, but the police officers surrounding her were too great a threat. The little brat had absolutely refused to cooperate, something that shocked him. What teenage girl _wouldn't_ want the satisfaction of co-owning a mall, for God's freaking sake? All he wanted was the deed to the land, and she'd be able to afterward brag to her little friends about how she could get all the shoes she wanted for free.

But she'd refused to sign and hand it over, absolutely confounding Derek. It just didn't make sense.

But the longer he stared at her, the more he began to realize. A necklace strung with turquoise beads around her neck; the tasseled deerskin jacket; the eagle feather earring…Even if she was only half Navajo, Niyol Charday had been damned smart enough to breed Native American pride in his daughter.

So he tried another approach.

"Really now," he said in his oily smooth voice, "Be reasonable, Miss Charday. If you were to co-sign…I mean, think of the possibilities! You'll not only become rich, but soon we could be business partners. All I need is for you to sign the contract, and hand over the deed to the land."

Venom laced the girl's words as her glare bored into his eyes. "People still live on the res, Mr. Collins. I hand over the deed to you, and lots of families aren't going to have anywhere to live or go."

"That shan't be a problem!" he replied, having prepared for this after being stunned with it by her father. "I already own an apartment complex in Oklahoma. I'll have them give your people temporary lodgings until we can have a permanent settlement built for them. Things will all work out in the end, Miss Charday, if you just trust me and work with me. Would that be so bad?"

She continued to glare at him, then said very casually, "Kind of funny, isn't it? I never would have expected someone who threw such a huge sob story at Dad's funeral to recover so quickly."

Anger seeped into his words, and he dropped the smile. "In this day and age, you've got to move on with life, kid. The working world doesn't stop just because _one_ guy died."

"Gee," she said innocently, "For a business shark, I'd have thought you'd respected my dad's wishes about leaving us and the res alone, even after he died. Guess that doesn't apply to the daughter, huh?"

His hands curled into fists as he crushed the contract, fighting the desire to beat the girl senseless. "You're making a mistake." he growled.

"Alright, Mr. Collins, that's quite enough!" one of the cops said in a would be casual voice, though Derek noticed her hand moving toward her taser as she stepped between he and the teenager. "Diana's had a rough past couple of days, losing a family member and all, and she doesn't need this sort of harassment."

"You need to refrain from further contact with Miss Charday, or we _will_ have to arrest you." another officer growled, making him flinch back. The little bitch had told them about him hounding her! Forcing his expression to remain as neutral as possible, Derek Collins brushed down the front of his attire and looked instead at the officer.

"Very well," he said in frayed tones, "You've made your point clear." And he turned to leave, storming out the door of the lodge house in a huff, making his way back to his limousine. As he wrenched open the door, much to the dismay of the hired help, he turned back to look over his shoulder. Diana was standing in the doorway, arms crossed as she glared at him.

"You know what they say about those who only anticipate a frontal assault." He called to her sweetly. In response, Diana's glare deepened to a hateful scowl, and she put a middle finger up at him. Snarling in annoyance, Collins stepped into the limo and slammed the door shut, already planning his retaliation. Her father hadn't slowed him down, and neither would she. He would have the deed to the reservation, one way or another!

"Is there anything I could do for you, sir?" his manservant asked nervously as they were driven along.

"Do you know many men willing to dress for camouflage purposes and work a stake-out?" he asked without hesitation. "Charday is bound to slip up sooner or later, just like her father did…"

Two nights had passed since the visit from Derek Collins, but Diana was feeling no less nervous about it. The police had escorted her home from school each day, but they couldn't stay overnight, and some deeper gut instinct told her that if Collins was crazy enough to try anything—_which he is_, she told herself—he'd do it at night.

Most kids would have started closing the blinds on the windows, but she knew better. She kept at least one window on each level and side of the house open, so she could walk around and look for any possible attack that might be launched. Her uncles had always called her paranoid, but Diana felt confident it would help keep her alive. Certainly her father would have approved.

It was during one of these moments, thinking about her dad while she was checking the windows, that she noticed something. There, just there out of sight, hidden in the woods in the distance, something shifted in the trees. Something too large to be a bird or a squirrel.

Looked like Collins was up to something after all.

"You're _not_ getting that deed, jerkface." She muttered under her breath vehemently. Her mind was already reeling, trying to think of different ways she could try to keep it from him, hold off until she was eighteen, but none of them seemed plausible. And with the way her imagination went, most of those seemed to result in her morbid death and the destruction of the res.

Angry, she stomped into the kitchen, trying to find something to eat despite her lack of appetite, when the thought occurred to her.

Dad had a sister living in NYC, Diana's Aunt Sephra. Aunt Sephra would take care of her! And surely New York, New York was far enough away that by the time she got there, Collins would give up.

There was one catch: she didn't have a car, and she couldn't risk having someone drive her there, for fear Collins's goons would follow.

"Crap!" She groaned, starting to pace. "Looks like I'd have to _walk_ to New York. Yeah, right. Think Di, think!"

But the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like she had no other choice. And after all, Dad had always talked about how their Native American ancestors had limited modes of transportation…

"Great. Just freaking great." She muttered as she ran to the upper levels of the lodge to start packing her duffel bag, resigned to the course of action before her. Slipping into her father's office, she kept low to the floor, just in the event the side with the office window was being watched. There was a secret drawer in underside of the desk, a space Diana had used to crawl in all the time as a kid when she'd played hide-and-seek. Her fingers found the catch and the drawer swung down, the yellowing envelope with the reservation deed falling forward. For a second, she could only stare.

"A freaking piece of paper," she said in a low mutter, tears starting to sting her eyes, "Dad died over a freaking piece of paper."

_But that piece of paper is the only thing keeping Dad's people alive_, another part of her reminded herself. _We can't let that greedy son of a dog get it._

Sighing, she extracted the envelope, tucked it inside her jacket, and shut the drawer, crawling carefully back out of the office and toward her room.

"Okay…gotta think about the essentials." she murmured as she looked around, trying not to force herself to bring everything with her. She immediately put on her second-best pair of track shoes, and stuffed her best pair into the bottom of the duffel bag. Her cell phone, its charger, spare clothing and a toothbrush quickly followed the shoes, and it wasn't until Diana was packing the flashlight that she remembered she needed money and food.

"Crap." she groaned. Her immediate thought was to grab cash, but going to the kitchen last and leaving through the door was stupid. She set the bag down, then calmly walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, her eyes carefully sliding to each of the uncovered windows in turn. The house was being watched from the north, the south and the west sides…but the east seemed strangely empty.

"Couldn't hire enough goons, you creep?" she chuckled dryly, retrieving the essentials. Two loaves of bread, sandwich fixings, and a jug of cranberry juice were soon loaded in her arms, while she stuffed several granola bars and a bag of her father's homemade trail mix in her jacket's bottom pockets. She carefully made her way back up the stairs, taking care not to glance out the windows again. She added her small rations to the duffel bag, then grabbed her wallet and stuffed it into one of the jacket pockets she'd emptied. Her father's wallet was still in his room, and she knew also where his jar of change and hidden stash of money were kept. A twinge of guilt twisted her gut, but she forced it down, reminding herself her dad would have wanted the deed kept safe, and so she snuck into his room, fighting back tears. The wallet and the jar of change were on his nightstand, while the stash was hidden in his hookah pipe.

"Mind if I take a puff, Mr. Collins?" she said to herself, wishing she was old enough to blow smoke in his face. She pulled the money out of the pipe and surveyed it carefully. Three hundred dollars.

"Better than nothing," she reminded herself as she pocketed it and the wallet, opting to leave the noisy change jar behind. Her father's lighter also found its way into her pocket, and she was just turning to leave when something caught her eye on the wall.

Her mother had been a sucker for mythology from any and every corner of the world, and her father had taken great pride in all of his American gods. And so her mother had commissioned for them a painting that her father had never taken down, even after her mother's death.

The man in the painting had angular, elven features, sharp eyes, and a mischievous smile that kept the viewer guessing what he found so amusing. He wore a black suit with white, webbed designs, and strands of silvery, gossamer-like material wrapped around his fingers, dancing to the corners of the canvas, trapping a figure in the background.

Anansi, the trickster spider god.

Anansi, capable of both helping and deceiving any who called upon his name.

A strange urge rose in Diana. She didn't believe too strongly in the old gods, and her father would disapprove she wasn't calling on one of the Navajo figures, but she felt just desperate enough…and hadn't her mother mentioned Anansi was fond of women…?

Taking a deep breath, she focused on the eyes, and spoke to him as though he were standing in the room with her.

"Hey, Anansi. Um…I know I've not exactly ever talked to you…and you don't really have any reason to pay attention to me…but I'm in a bit of a sticky situation. My dad died. Over a piece of paper that claims the right to our reservation. And now this guy wants it, and I'm guessing he is probably willing to kill me in order to get it. I can't let that happen. I've got to get to New York City, and I've got to hold this creep off until I turn eighteen. So…I don't know…I was wondering if maybe you could…you know…help?"

She stared for a long moment at the painting, half-wishing the spider god would start talking to her, but all she got in response was a minor headache.

"Stupid." she grumbled, stomping back into her room. She was just shouldering the duffel bag when a tiny voice whispered somewhere nearby.

_The drain…climb the drain outside the east window…they won't be watching…you're going to be followed, but you need a head start…climb down the drain…_

The voice startled her, but the suggestion took greater root in her mind. The east side of the lodge house was still unchecked by whoever Collins had watching the house, and the drainpipe did run just outside that window. Smiling with a grim determination, she went to the bathroom and carefully lifted the window open. Pulling herself up onto the pane, she scrambled to get a good hold but avoid falling at the same time. Finally, she was able to reach the drain pipe, and a grin of triumph turned up the corners of her mouth as she started to shinny down…

"YOU WHAT?"

"She must have escaped through the east window. I'm sorry boss, but that kid is smart."

"YOU IDIOTS! What do I pay you for?" Collins roared, slamming the phone down.

"Sir, please. Compose yourself." his secretary Teresa said nervously.

"Shut up, Teresa." he snapped, throwing a paperweight at the wall in anger. "I'm not about to let some little teenybopper get the best of me. Give me the damn paper and coffee."

Wordlessly, she set the steaming mug and copy of the _New York Times_ on his desk before him, then quickly backed out before she got too far in his line of fire. Snarling in fury, Collins snatched up both, taking a deep swallow of the bitter drink as his eyes scanned the front page. At first, his anger seemed to keep him from actually being able to read anything, until an arrest notice caught his eye. Some science-techno-geek, with some kind of machines called…'mousers.'

The more he read, the more his anger began to ebb, and the corners of his mouth started to twitch upward.

"Baxter Stockman, huh…?" he murmured aloud, the wheels in his brain turning.

* * *

><p>AN: Yes, there's going to be a lot of the supernatural elements in here. You don't like it, so sorry. R&R would be appreciated.


	2. Chapter 1: Steal For Your Supper

Chapter 1: Steal For Your Supper

He was racing along a corridor, trying to alternate between speed and stealth. After all, every now and then the guards would walk by, and he had to press his back to the wall and practically crab-walk to avoid being seen. This was one of those times. The ledge he was aiming for was just within sight…a quick fling of his grappling hook and he could be up there…but the guards were still walking the halls, and the slightest motion would catch their attention.

"Be a ninja…" Michelangelo murmured. "Be one with the environment…"

"MIKEY!" a voice yelled his name, making him accidentally release the grappling hook and bringing the guards swarming over him.

"Awww, man! What'd you have to go and do that for?" he yelled.

"Are you _still_ trying to beat that level on Legend of Zelda?" Donatello sighed as he came within view, shaking his head.

"Yeah, and I would've gotten to the ledge too, if _someone _hadn't opened their big mouth!" Michelangelo muttered bitterly.

"Look, Michelangelo, I can appreciate your determination to beat the game, but everyone's already gone off." Donatello remarked.

"Huh?" the younger turtle looked around in surprise. "Raph?"

"Out with Casey."  
>"Leo?"<p>

"Still not entirely sure. But he had that look on his face…"

"Oh…Master Splinter?"

"Meditating."

"April?"

"Hasn't even been down here today."

There was a slight, drawn out pause as Michelangelo did a double take around the den, getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. If he was the only one left, and Donny was interrupting his game…

He bolted upright and made a break for one of the exits. "See ya, Don!"

"Oh, no you don't!" Donatello grumbled, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of the trailing orange fabric from his brother's mask. With a yelp and a near-loss of balance, the younger turtle was halted in his tracks, receiving a sharp yank on his mask.

"Ow! What was that for, Donny?" He demanded, rubbing the knot of his mask behind his head.

"You're not doing anything," his older brother stated pointedly, "And I need some assistance with a scanning device I'm working on. I'm planning on setting them up around the perimeter of the subway to function sort of like high-tech security cameras. Except as these babies are sending feed to my screens, they're going to scan each individual walking around down here and determine whether they're a threat or not."

"Look Don, I'm not gonna lie. It really sounds cool, like CIA and secret agent kind of stuff. But I kind of need some fresh air…you know, all that video gaming…eyes getting ruined by staring at a monitor for a bazillion hours…"

Annoyed, Donatello rolled his eyes and released his younger brother. "Oh, alright. Fine!" he grumbled, crossing his arms. They both knew the excuse was a pathetic one, but Donatello wasn't about to get in a petty argument over it. Grinning at his newfound freedom, Michelangelo bounded away, throwing his brother a mock salute.

"Catch you later, dude!"

"Yeah," Don muttered to an empty den, turning back to his work, "Catch you later."

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><p>The night was warm and young, and the soft warm breeze tickled Michelangelo's face, energizing the young turtle. Bounding from rooftop to rooftop, he made his way around a handful—a human handful, that was—of blocks. There were about three pizza places on the routes however, and more than once he became sidetracked by the rich aroma wafting up to meet him.<p>

"Ahh, just be patient, Michelangelo," he muttered to himself, "If you finish your patrol and then get a pizza, no one can complain."

He went on past one of these establishments when he noticed something unusual in an alley further on ahead. Curious, he sprinted forward, hopped another rooftop, crossed it, and hunched down on the opposite end, peering down into the alley.

* * *

><p>Diana crouched low, keeping her knees ready to spring at a second's notice. Anyone passing her may have thought she was singularly focused on the restaurant patio in front of her, but she made sure to allow the sounds of the city wash over her, to avoid being caught totally off-guard.<p>

The place she was watching was some Italian restaurant, not totally upper-class exclusive and swanky, but definitely not a cheap stop for your average couple to make. And a lot of the people dressed in really formal wear seemed to eat on the patio they sported to one side of the entrance, from what she could tell.

"Come on…" she muttered in irritation as she watched, trying to ignore the sudden growl given off by her protesting stomach. Sooner or later someone was bound to leave for something and then she could sneak up if she could just time it right, clear off the table, and take off before the servers came to clear it all away. She hadn't eaten a proper meal in what felt like years and was definitely months, and the aromas wafting from the restaurant were making her salivate like a Pavlov dog. She'd been lucky so far, to make it all the way to New York, New York and stay just a few steps ahead of the shopping-mall-tyrant's goons, and she hoped against hope that her luck would continue to hold out, just enough that she could eat.

_Doesn't even have to be anything major, _she told herself, trying to fight the idea of springing up and raiding a completely-laden-yet-occupied table. _Heck, if I can steal a breadstick or two, I'll be happy with that!_

She blinked, shook her head, and just as she started to concentrate again, her luck struck the jackpot.

A young couple seated at a table on the patio had been exchanging increasingly irritated looks at one another since they'd arrived, and their food was placed before them. They barely acknowledged the server, who backed away awkwardly when his question about shredded parmesan was ignored. The woman was practically growling at the young man, everything in her posture suggesting accusation and a growing rage. The man threw up his hands as though surrendering, but his tone started to rise and become defensive. Diana's attention locked onto them at once, and within moments, they'd started shouting, though what about she could have cared less. Soon their argument grew so loud, that all the other customers began to stop and stare. Finally the woman seemed to have had enough; infuriated, she rose from her chair and flung something at the man, who'd also risen. He threw his hands up to protect his face, swearing as he did so, and the woman stormed back inside the restaurant, her hair bouncing and flouncing, falling out of its do. Seconds later the man was charging after her, still yelling, and as silence fell over the patio, all the other customers turned back to their own plates, determinedly focusing only on their food.

Diana sprung from her spot in the alley and charged forward, ducking just below the patio level, heart pounding. One breath, two breaths, and she leapt up, swung herself over the patio railing, catching the attention of the nearest table, who did no more than stare. Uncaring, Diana swept her hand and knocked the vase, glasses, and salt grinder from the table as she seized the woman's plate and upended upon the man's. Moving faster than she'd moved in ages, she seized the four corners of the tablecloth and knotted them above the plates just as a server walked out onto the patio. Her eyes darted up, and for a brief second, she and the server stared at each other, not sure who was the more startled.

Then the spell broke and the server pointed at her, his face becoming thunderous.

"You! Drop that now!"

Locking her fingers under the knot, Diana gripped the railing with her opposite hand and leaned her weight on it, swinging her legs up and over.

"STOP! THIEF!" the server roared, lunging at her, but she was already moving, running across the street, sucking in deep breaths of air, heart hammering wildly against her ribcage as she ran, darting through the alley and taking a left. She began moving in an erratic pattern through the streets, barely stopping to think where she was going, but just evading like a hunted animal.

_Gotta lose 'em…gotta shake 'em…keep moving, Diana…you've got to keep moving…_

The makeshift bag of pasta clanked, clanged, and clattered as she ran, and she swore under her breath. Of all the stupid things to do, she had forgotten the noise the plates would make.

But her luck continued to hold and she finally managed to find another alley someplace further away, where she leaned against a wall and slowly slid down to a sitting position, hugging the precious package to her middle, breathing hard as she tried to calm down. Her head was throbbing, and she shook from head to toe in fright, shocked and alarmed at what she'd just done, shivering from the adrenaline.

_Look what you've been reduced to, Di…_she thought, _Stealing, just to eat. Dad would be ashamed…_

_ But I've got to keep going…_she argued with herself. _I _have _to keep the deed safe…keep it away from Collins until I'm eighteen…I've got to get to Aunt Sephra's…If I can just hang on until then…If I hang on until I get to Aunt Sephra, I'm going to be okay…everything's going to be okay…_

"Well, well, well, boys," an unexpected voice jarred her from her thoughts and she shot to her feet, a second wind rising inside her, "Looks like this is our lucky night."

Three thick, muscular men were drawing out of the shadows of the alley, wearing identical ugly grins and sporting an assortment of colored hair, tattoos, piercings, and weapons.

"So tell us, cutie," said another one of them, slowly tapping a bat against the flat of his palm, "What's a sweet little thing like you doing in a place like this? Out past your bedtime, aincha?"

"Leave me alone." she said quietly, her voice remaining surprisingly calm as she clutched her stolen pasta ever tighter. The men's grins became wider, and a shiver ran down her spine.

"Ooh sorry," the first one hissed, pulling a length of chain from his pocket and starting to swing it, "No can do. See, you're on our turf, and just in time for supper, too."

"What's in the doggie bag, sweetie?" the third laughed coldly, making a swipe at her she avoided easily, "Easy-Bake cupcakes?"

"Come on, now, don't be shy!" said the first in mock sweetness, "We're nice guys! We'll share the _best_ part with you!"

"I said leave me alone, you creeps." she growled, and it was at that second that something dropped out of the sky before her.

"Yeah, dudes!" it said, "Listen to the lady!"

"Holy shit!" one of the guys screamed.

"What the hell?"

"Hit it!"

The next few moments were a blur, passing before Diana's eyes like a rapidly moving film clip. Her mysterious new alley charged the thugs, holding a whirring pair of weapons in his hands, which he spun and twisted with an elegance befitting a dancer. One of the thugs leapt at the figure, but he spun at the last second and the man caught a kick high in his chest, the wind knocking right out of him as he flew backward. The spinning weapons caught another guy full in the face, rendering him unconscious as her new savior launched a volley of kicks into the third man. Diana felt dazed, shocked, and was caught between staying where she was and running, though whether to save her own skin or to help her rescuer she wasn't sure.

The left…the left…look to the left…

The voice that wasn't her own spoke as clearly in her mind as it had those months ago when she left her house, and almost as though her body were being compelled by a higher force, her head turned to the left. The first attacker was getting back up, breathing hard and rubbing his chest, murder in his eyes.

Snapping out of her stupor, Diana turned back to her rescuer and opened her mouth.

"BEHIND YOU!" she screamed.

The reaction was instantaneous: the figure seized the front of shirt of the man he was grappling with, turned, and flung the thug right into his companion, sending them both sprawling on their backs a good few yards down the alley, crashing into some trash cans. They started to get back up and the figure advanced, his weapons still whirling and singing as they cut the night air. As though by silent consent, the two muggers glanced at each other, scrambled to their feet, and ran, stumbling, away and out of sight. Her rescuer stuffed the last unconscious man into a bin and kicked it after them.

"And don't forget to take your trash with you!" he chortled. There was a moment's pause, then he turned and started to approach Diana. "Hey. You okay?"

"Oh, God! Thank you, yes! I—"

The words died in her mouth as she got a good view of him. She'd had several things she'd wanted to say to express her gratitude: "you're awesome," "that was the coolest high kick I've ever seen," "you saved my life," and "I don't know what would've happened if you didn't show up," were just a few. But even with all those expressions going through her mind, she could only stare, dumbfounded, with her jaw hanging open, until she finally managed to stumble, shocked, over the words.

"You're a turtle."

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><p>AN: R&R please. Don't be afraid to give **helpful** suggestions and criticism. And wow, Diana. Thanks for pointing out the obvious... _ _;


	3. Chapter 2: New Best Friend?

Chapter 2: New Best Friend?

"Um, duh!" Michelangelo responded, giving a shrug of his green shoulders. "Who were you expecting? Chuck Norris?"

"But you can talk…" the girl said, blinking her dark eyes in disbelief. "And you fight."

"You've got a weird way of saying thank you."

"And you saved me…"

Mike groaned inwardly. Looked like this was going to be one of _those_ times. Thankfully, she at least hadn't fainted…yet. That meant he still had time to question her about her little stunt at the restaurant.

"Yeah, okay…" he said slowly, taking a step forward. "Anyway, I have a question I need to ask you."

Instinctively she stepped back. Michelangelo thought her shadow on the wall grew a bit, looked a little funny, but decided not to question it. Instead he stepped with her, stowing away his _nunchaku_ and holding up his hands to show they were empty.

"Whoa whoa, chill! I'm not going to hurt you! I just wanna talk." he said, trying to keep her from freaking and running on him.

"Uh-huh…sure…and the second you ask your question, you're going to jump me and take me to the cops, aren't you?" she replied with a nervous, empty chuckle.

"Look dudette, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a poster boy cop, and I can't really just sashay down to the D of P and turn you in without getting cameras in my face." he sighed, rubbing his head. This was _already_ getting to be a headache and they'd barely said anything! But the girl paused, like his words were registering with her.

"Okay…Let's say I stick around to answer your question…but if I do, you better not go back on what you said."

"Seriously!" he groaned. "I'm not going to go to the cops!"

"Okay, fine…" she said slowly, still eyeing him with an air of distrust and apprehension, "Whatcha wanna know?"

"Well, do you have a name? I don't want to call you 'chick' or 'babe' or 'dudette' all the time."

"…Diana."

"Diana. Nice to meet you. The name's Michelangelo, but everybody just calls me 'Mike' or 'Mikey.'" he said, risking a smile that she didn't return.

"Mike. Okay," she sighed, as though trying to reassure herself of something, "I'm lost in New York, with stolen pasta, a crazy, homicidal business owner out to get me, and I'm in an alley talking to a giant turtle named Mike who knows kung fu. Okay, this isn't so bad. I guess it could be worse."

"Whoa, whoa! Back up there, Di! I think you just totally answered my question and I didn't even ask it! What'd you say?"

"…Which part?"  
>"All of it!"<p>

"…I'm lost in New York, with stolen pasta, a crazy, homicidal business owner out to get me, and I'm in an alley talking to a giant turtle named Mike who knows kung fu?"

"Actually it's _ninjitsu_. And I know you stole the eats, I watched you do it."

At this, the color drained from her face and she tensed up again, her left foot sliding back a fraction.

"Hey, chill out! I just said I saw you do it! I haven't turned you in yet! Plus I saved your life, remember?"  
>She relaxed again, but only slightly.<p>

"But what do you mean lost with a crazy, homicidal rich dude out to get you?"

"…It's a long story…"

At this, he groaned inwardly. He knew what he had to do, but he also knew he'd get into a lot of trouble if he did it. Still, perhaps if Master Splinter just listened with him, maybe he wouldn't get into so much trouble…

"Well…I've got time. If you want to come back to my place—"

"You said you weren't going to turn me in!"  
>"I'm not, GEEZ! Look dude, I just wanna know the truth! But we can't stick around here and swap stories over snow cones! I live just a little bit away from here, and no one can find us, so you'll have time to tell me! But you have to promise you won't tell anyone about it!"<br>For a long moment, Diana studied him carefully, her distrust still etched plainly on her face. Whatever she'd been through, Michelangelo reflected, it had to be seriously bad if she was lost and stealing. Finally however, Diana sighed and relaxed a bit more.

"Alright…I promise…" she said wearily, sounding exhausted, "Where is it?"

Mikey grinned. "Follow me." He turned and led her to the nearest sewer grate, crouching down to lift it up for her.

"Down there?" she asked, which was a pleasant departure from the normal "You're kidding me, right? No way am I going in a sewer!"

"Yep. Don't freak, there are tunnels that lead to my place. It's an underground subway station that's been abandoned for a while." he explained as she sized up the jump, tightening the knot on her package of stolen food.

"Doesn't sound too bad." she remarked before crouching down and making a small hop down the five-foot drop into the sewer tunnel.

"It's actually pretty rad," Mikey declared proudly, dropping down after her. He straightened up, pulling the grate overhead back into place. "My bros and I fixed it all up."

"You have brothers?" Diana asked, sounding surprised, "You mean…there's more of you? More giant, talking turtles?"  
>He suppressed another groan. Apparently the lack of fainting was just being replaced by an extra-long 'giant talking turtles' phase. He wondered what would happen when she got a good look at Master Splinter. Instead, he just started to lead her down the tunnel, giving a nod.<p>

"Yep. Me, Donatello, Leonardo, and Raphael. But you can just call 'em Donny, Leo and Raph, it's easier."

"Oh, and of course," she gave another of those weak chuckles, "Why _wouldn't_ you all be named after a bunch of Renaissance artists? You got any sisters named after Jane Austen characters or something?"

"No," he answered as they walked, "But we _do_ have Master Splinter."

"Master Splinter," she echoed slowly, her stolen plates of food still clattering as they walked, "Do I even _want_ to know?"

"Nah, I think it may just be easier if you meet him."

"I'll take your word for it, Mikey."

For the rest of the walk, they remained mostly quiet, Diana managing to keep up with Michelangelo the whole way, despite how tired she looked. Normally Mike would have looked for excuses to keep the conversation going, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wasn't sure if it was feeling sorry for how tired Diana obviously was, or if it was something else. Something about her just seemed a bit off…and it wasn't her wardrobe. Not that her clothes were unusual, but it just showed she wasn't a native New Yorker. No, there was something about her that was distinctly…well, _weird_, and it sent shivers up his spine, making his skin crawl. He felt a small stab of guilt at such an impolite line of thought, but something about her just _bugged_ him and he didn't know why.

_Geez, Michelangelo!_ he chided himself, _You gotta chill out a bit! I just don't want to get in trouble for bringing a stranger down here, that's what it is. It's gotta be. And besides, Master Splinter will know what to do. He'll take care of everything…_

But despite his self-reassurances, he still couldn't shake the feeling of unease, and when they arrived at the den, it was with great relief that he saw Donatello still in his corner, working away restlessly.

"Back already?" Don asked, not looking up from the panel he was fussing with. "That was rather quick. Did you change your mind about giving me a hand?"

"A-actually, Donny…I was kinda hoping _you_ could help _me_ out." Michelangelo replied, stepping further in while Diana hovered uncertainly behind him.

"What is it this time, Mikey?" Donatello groaned, setting down the panel. "Don't tell me you busted a jewelry store window or some old lady saw you and—"

He froze as he turned to face them, eyes widening behind his bandana.

"Um…hi?" Diana said tentatively, giving a weak wave as she stepped out in full view.

"A human?" Donatello quickly moved from shock to irritation as he looked to his brother. "Michelangelo…"

"Chill a bit, Don! It's cool, she said she promises not to tell anyone!"

"And what guarantee did you get about that? Knowing you, you probably jumped first and decided to save the thinking until you got here."

Mike started to speak, but no words came out, and he simply shut his mouth again, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. Donatello groaned and turned to Diana, frowning.

"Look, I don't know what he told you, but—"

"I'm not going to tell anyone!" she said stubbornly. "He saved me from a bunch of thugs, okay? Least I can do is keep a secret!"

"Kids'd still tell their parents." Don argued.

"My parents are dead." Diana shot back bluntly, her face darkening.

Her words were met with a shocked silence, until Donatello finally spoke up.

"I…I'm sorry…" he murmured.

"'S cool," she sighed, "You didn't know."

"Okay," Michelangelo interjected, "Now I _really_ want to hear your story."

"Like I said," Diana sighed, "It's long."

"So you brought her down here for a story?" Don demanded.

"Well I wasn't just gonna stand in an alley, waiting for those creeps to show back up with friends." Mike answered. He turned to Diana and gestured toward the sofa. "You can sit down. The couch isn't gonna bite."

"Thanks," the girl murmured, collapsing onto it almost at once, starting to unfold her bundle of stolen food. "I'm starving and I haven't sat on a couch in _forever_."

"Wait just a second," Don said, starting toward one of the openings, "I'm going to get Master Splinter. I think he'd better hear this, and I have a feeling you won't want to tell us the whole story twice."

"Works for me." Diana muttered, whipping a Swiss Army knife out of one of her jacket pockets. She flipped open one of its little tools, a piece resembling a spork, and began to dig into the pasta like a starving man, shoveling it into her mouth rapidly.

"Slow down, dude! You're gonna make yourself hurl!" Mike chuckled, crouching down in front of her.

"Freaking hungry," she muttered between bites, "Haven't eaten real food in forever. Not since I left."

"Left…?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "Did you run away from home? Er, I mean—"

"'S all good, you forgot," she replied, taking a huge swallow, "And technically, I ran away from my dad's house. Told you, I've got a crazy, homicidal freak out to get me."

"Where is your dad's house?"

"New Mexico."

"WHOA! Are you kidding me? New Mexico's like, a trillion miles away! How the heck did you get here?"

She frowned up at him, spork midway to her mouth. "I walked. Duh."

"Am I hearing what I think I'm hearing?" Donatello's voice drifted out to them as he reappeared in the mouth of the tunnel he'd gone down. "You _walked_ all the way from New Mexico to New York?"

"Don't have a car. Or a bike." Diana replied, taking another couple of large bites, "Taxis and buses can be traced. If I hitchhiked, people can be paid to tell what they know. Or they're in danger of being killed on my account. And it's not exactly like I could have shanghaied a horse and ridden the whole way here. Horses can be shot out from under you. And if I fell off and the horse fell on me, two birds with one stone. So yeah, I walked." She set the plate of food down on the floor and stared at Donatello. "You sound like you don't believe I could have done it."  
>"I think," said a new voice, "You did well, studying the situation and choosing wisely. Though it would help if I knew more of the details."<p>

Master Splinter emerged from the tunnel on Donatello's heels and offered a kind smile.

"I agree, Master." Donatello said calmly, and at once, Michelangelo relaxed. Now everything was going to be okay.

Or mostly okay.

Diana's eyes locked onto Splinter and promptly went the size of hubcaps, her Swiss Army knife slipping right out of her hand.

"_You're_ Master Splinter?" she asked, her voice going several octaves higher, and when he nodded, she started to sway where she sat. "I think I'm going to faint."

"Yeah, he's got that effect on people," Mike sighed, "You want me to catch you?"

"If you wouldn't mind," she squeaked before her eyes rolled up in the back of her head and she pitched forward.

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks so much for being so patient, guys! ^^; Sorry about the long delay and the short chapter. Hopefully I won't have such a big time gap between this chapter and the next one!


	4. Chapter 3: Having Moxy Helps

Chapter 3: Having Moxy Helps

The passage was long and the ceiling low, tunnels and adjacent halls cut into the walls on either side, and a cold, damp breeze flowed in and out at odd intervals. A thick white mist obscured everything below waist level, and tattered, shredded netting covered the walls, dangled from the ceiling, stirring gently in the breeze, pulsing with a soft purple glow. In many places the netting was stretched over openings to the adjacent tunnels that faded into darkness, and from these passages echoed whispers. The words were barely able to be discerned and the volume vacillated up and down, but the whispers were constant nonetheless.

Diana gave a jerky shudder and rubbed the gooseflesh that rose on her arms, fighting a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the cave-like place. It was creepy, in a hair-raising, nails-dragging-down-your-spine kind of way, and she hated it. She broke into a fast walk, keeping her eyes fixed dead ahead. She hated not seeing the floor beneath her feet, hated how the opaque mist threw everything into questionable obscurity. And then suddenly, she heard something up ahead.

Someone was laughing. But it wasn't the sort of creepy, sinister chuckle Diana would have expected. It was a lighthearted sound, full of mirth and a sense of mischief, as though the person were having a merry giggle at a clever trick they'd just played.

_Only thing about this place that's lookin' up…_ Diana thought, and carefully began to head toward the source of the sound. It bounced and ricocheted off the walls of the cave, but somehow she still managed to discern just where it was coming from. She turned to her right, realizing the main tunnel branched off, and the sound of laughter grew louder.

"Who are you?" she called out. "_Where_ are you?"

"Why my dear," the laughing voice answered, "You aren't ready to accept such weighty answers that I might give."

Annoyance pricked at Diana, and she picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog.

"And just what the heck is _that_ supposed to mean?" she snapped.

"It means what it sounds like," shot back a different voice, this one an irritated growl, "You aren't ready. Too early a stage in the game."

The mist began to dissipate, and Diana saw the tunnel open up into a much larger domed antechamber ahead, where two shapes, figures, watched her. Too late she broke into a run, and the floor started to crumble and fall away beneath her. She raced to keep ahead of the tunnel's collapse, but the antechamber never got closer, and then her feet slipped and she was falling, falling into black emptiness.

The laughing voice gave another chuckle.

"Ignore Mother's bitterness. And don't worry; you won't be kept in the dark too long. You're headstrong and exceptionally clever, both traits I look for when picking an avatar. But now you must wake! I daresay your reptilian acquaintances are starting to worry, Diana Charday."

* * *

><p>Diana shot upright with a gasp, her chest heaving from the falling sensation of the dream, her heart hammering a tattoo against her ribcage. She blinked rapidly, her vision returning in a hazy blur of dim light. Without pausing to think, she reached up, patting the pockets of the deerskin jacket, finally sighing in satisfaction when she felt the thick envelope in the inside pocket.<p>

"Whoa, calm down, Di!" came a vaguely familiar surfer voice. Habit had her continue to pat the rest of her jacket as she blinked a few more times, turning to see Michelangelo watching her warily.

"S-sorry," she murmured, "Bad dream." Turning her attention away from him, she was surprise to see five pairs of eyes watching her, not just the two she'd expected.

"Musta been one heckuva dream." snorted a turtle wearing a red mask in a heavy Brooklyn accent.

"Oh! Almost forgot! They know who you are, 'cause I filled 'em in, but Di? This is my big brother, Leonardo—" Mike pointed at a turtle in a blue headband, who gave a stiff nod, "—my other big brother—"

"Raphael." the turtle in red cut him off, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We call him Raph," Mike added with a wink, then gestured to the human face among them, "And our most esteemed friend, Casey Jones."

" 'Sup, kid?" the man asked with a grin, leaning forward casually on a hockey stick.

"And you met Donny and Master Splinter." Michelangelo finished.

"Uh…h-hi…" Diana said meekly, tentatively waving the tips of her fingers.

"Glad to see you're back among the living," Donatello said dryly, "And now that we're all here, perhaps you could fill us in on your story."

"Been wonderin' that myself." Raphael muttered.

"I think we _all_," said the one called Leonardo, folding his legs under him as he took a seat, "Would like to hear this story."

"My thoughts precisely," added Master Splinter serenely, approaching her. The appearance of a human-sized rat didn't shock her so badly the second time around, and now that she saw him up close, he almost had a sort of, well…grandfatherly air to him. She slowly relaxed, and when Splinter made an inquiring gesture toward the couch, she nodded for him to sit.

"Okay," she sighed, "My story's a bit lengthy, so just bear with."

"Aww man, and us with no popcorn!" Casey whined melodramatically.

Diana rolled her eyes and took a deep breath, then began to speak. "I don't know if you could tell, but I'm half-Native American. Navajo, to be specific, and on my Dad's side. See, I'm not from around here. My Dad's family and tribe live on a reservation in New Mexico.

"Well, about six months ago or so, this guy shows up on Dad's doorstep to talk. Says his name is Derek Collins and he had a business proposition for Dad. Turned out Collins owns a chain of malls and crap, and he was looking to open a mall near us. And by near, I mean he wanted just a little over half the reservation to build on. Nobody liked the idea, but Dad tried to be polite as possible and told Collins to come back after a handful of months or so and we would all have a decision made.

"He showed back up after three.

"Thing is, Dad and the rest of the heads of the tribe had already made the decision not to sell to Collins. That would put all of us in a tight spot: homes would be lost, there would be less space for everyone… Truth is, Dad was hoping that five months would go by, and that Collins would forget. But he didn't, and when Dad refused to sell, Collins got ticked and disappeared for a bit.

"About a week later, I was called out of school to the hospital. But the car crash didn't kill Dad; forensics found a 45-millimeter bullet lodged in the back of his skull." she growled, clenching her fists. "Collins showed up at the funeral, acting all sympathetic and sad, like you couldn't see right through him. Next night he showed up at the house again, tried to sweet-talk me into handing over the deed to the res. Even tried bribing me with co-owning that stupid mall. I told him no, and he got freaking mad, like he wanted to kill me on the spot.

"Two afternoons later, I get home from school and see a bunch of guys staked out around the house…I…I wasn't sure what to do…"

"You ran away from home?" Donatello asked.

Diana bit down on her lip, nodding. "I…I knew where Dad kept the papers…I took the deed, threw some supplies in my duffel bag—"

"Hang on a sec," Raphael interrupted, "You said there were guys watching the house; how'dja get out?"

For a second, Diana hesitated, vaguely recalling when the voice in her head had started speaking, directing her to her escape. Part of her wanted to confide in someone, anyone, just to get it off her chest, and as weird as it was telling a bunch of giant, talking turtles, they seemed more than trustworthy.

_But if I mention the voice, they're going to think I'm crazy and made this all up!_ She chided herself. _Heck, I can just tell them later…if I tell them at all._

"No one was watching the east side of the house. I had to climb down the freaking drain pipe. And from there, I've just been on the run. I know Collins' goons were chasing me forever at first, but they're not good at the whole outdoors scene, and I know a thing or two about living wild. I think I finally shook them in Ohio, but I'm not banking on that." she answered.

"So why come to New York?" asked Leonardo.

"Dad's sister, my Aunt Sephra," she replied at once, "She lives here. I was hoping to find her and she'd help. See, I've technically got no legal claim to the deed that I know of, because I haven't turned eighteen yet. And I don't know how any of this crap works, but my guess is the deed would have to pass to my Dad's closest living relative. And I have a feeling Dad would want Aunt Sephra to have the deed anyway…at least until my birthday."

"You're turning eighteen soon then?" Casey raised an eyebrow, his joking manner completely gone.

"In about three weeks." she answered, "But that's not a whole lot of comfort. I think Collins is still looking for me."

"I've got a question," said Michelangelo, raising his hand, "Like, what happened to your duffel bag?"

"Had to pitch it eventually. I'd thrown a bunch of food and stuff in it, but a duffel bag kind of stands out when you're on the run. Once I'd eaten through everything I had, I switched out my clothes with the ones in the bag, put all the other important stuff in my pockets, then threw away the bag and my old clothes."

"You don't have any money on ya?" asked Raphael.

She shook her head. "Burned through the last of it two days ago. Had to buy a _third_ set of clothes, new shows, and I've really only been using it to eat or take the bus sometimes."

"So _that's_ why you stole the pasta!" Mike exclaimed.

"Yeah," she said with a guilty nod, "I tried to make my cash last, so I didn't really eat at any nice, sit-down places; just gas station stuff and a few fast food joints. Now…I've only got a nickel to my name…I didn't know what else to do…"

"So you think that just made it okay to steal?" Leonardo demanded coldly, and Diana flinched back, then scowled, getting back in his face.

"I know it's not okay!" she snapped, "Do you think I even really wanted to? Man…what my Dad would say if he knew…"

"Calm yourselves, both of you," Master Splinter spoke at last, his words soft and gentle. "Sometimes we must all do things we would rather not, Leonardo, in order to survive."

For a moment, it looked as though the blue-clad turtle would object further, but then he exhaled and bowed his head. "Yes, Master Splinter."

"Splinta Junia." Raphael snorted. The two turtles glared at each other, but before a fight could break out, Donatello spoke up once more.

"Sounds like you've been through a lot," he remarked, "Do you know where in New York your aunt lives?"

"Well…I'm pretty sure she lives in NYC, but I'm not 100% positive. I don't remember her exact address, and I'm not totally sure how to find her."

"We have a friend that could help you," Casey said, giving his hockey stick a small spin, "She's got access to a ton of info, and I don't think she'd object."

"Good idea, Casey." Don agreed.

"Umm…" Mike turned to Splinter, "Could Di stay here? Until she finds her aunt?"

At this, all his brothers spun to look at him, and Splinter raised an eyebrow.

"No thanks, Mikey. That's nice, but I don't want to be trouble." Diana spoke up.

"I doubt you would be much trouble, child," Splinter said kindly, "And a rest from your flight may be of great benefit to you."

"I dunno 'bout that, Mastah," Raphael said with a scowl, stomping over and getting right up in Diana's face, "Mebbe our hospitality ain't good enough for the princess here."

Fury churned in Diana as she snarled back at the turtle. "Don't call me Princess!" she snapped, swinging her left fist up in a punch. Much to her surprise, he caught her wrist mid-motion and rolled his eyes.

"Saw that comin'," he sighed, "Next time, lead with ya right."

"What, you want to see that one coming too?" she snarled.

"No," Raph answered, taking a step back and pointing to her stomach, "You're right-handed, ain'tcha? Lead with ya left, ya leave yourself wide open t'get gut-punched. Lead with ya right. That way, you gotta chance t'guard ya stomach with ya left."

At the end of this, he blinked, as though he was unsure why he'd just said that, and all the others were staring at him in shock.

"What?" he huffed.

"Dude! Am I like, going nuts, or did Raph just teach someone something?" Mike asked, looking wide-eyed at Don.

"He did!" the turtle in the purple mask exclaimed.

"What? Too far-fetched for ya?" Raph snapped, a hand dropping to his belt and curling over the hilt of a _sai_.

"Makes sense when you think about it," Diana murmured, more to herself than anything. She wriggled her wrist free of Raphael's grasp, then pulled her left elbow in tight near her stomach, balling her hand into a fist. She brought her right fist up higher to show him. "Like this, right?"

He glanced back and nodded at her. "But try not t'covah ya whole stomach. Good punch could break ya arm."

At this, Splinter began to chuckle softly.

"What? What's so funny?" Raph demanded.

"Perhaps you should stay, Miss Diana," he said, "Just for a little while. I think you may benefit from learning to defend yourself as much as Raphael may benefit from the responsibility of having a pupil."

"Wait, what?" said the turtle.

"Are you serious?" asked the girl.

"You want me to train her?"

"You want me to learn karate?"

"She gets to stay?" Michelangelo asked, his face lighting up with a grin, and the rat smiled, nodding slowly despite Donatello and Leonardo's groans. "SWEET!"

There was a long pause, and Diana and Raphael slowly looked at each other, sizing one another up.

"Well…mebbe for a while."

"You'll seriously train me?" this time she couldn't stop a grin from spreading over her face.

"If ya don't get on my nerves."

"Oh, that's just a challenge, man. Now I'm going to _have_ to piss you off!"

"Ya think ya that tough?"

"HA! I've got more guts than _all_ the goons following me have put together and multiplied!" she snapped, surging to her feet and glaring at him, balling her fists again. "I may not know any of that fancy kung fu, chop suey, egg fu yung crap, but I can still kick your green butt if I have to!"

For an agonizingly long moment, there was silence that had everyone watching Raphael with bated breath. His expression was near to impossible to read, and everyone, even Diana, who was starting to think she went a bit far, was waiting for him to explode.

And then he burst out laughing.

"Ya got moxy, kid," he chuckled, ruffling her hair despite her protests, "Gotta work on ya bluffin', but ya got moxy! Keep it up, and I might start callin' ya my baby sis! Kick my green butt, huh? Moxy out th' wazoo! I like ya already, kid!"


	5. Chapter 4: Meeting Meditation & Meddling

A/N: Sorry about the wait, guys! ^^; Anyway...not a whole lot to say here. And the character that makes a guest appearance at the end of this chapter belongs to my friend, Lycan-Fang on deviantArt. Beyond that...I'm working on chapter 5, and hopefully I should have it up sooner than it took me to get this chapter uploaded.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4: A Meeting, Meditation, and Meddling<span>

The morning was cloudy and gray outside the Starbucks on 32nd street and the sky threatened rain at any possible moment. Typically, on a day like this, people would be crowding the place, not able to get their coffee fast enough. Yet strangely, the place was empty.

Well, not totally empty.

At first, it had only been the manager and his coworker Stacey in the store when Bradley had showed up for his shift. Once the store had opened, Bradley had taken up his position, eagerly awaiting the half-crazed masses that would kill for a cappuccino. But then, no one came in. Ten minutes passed and Bradley reassured himself they were just off to a slow start. Fifteen minutes, and he'd begun drumming his fingers on the counter. Thirty minutes and he'd gotten so bored he cleaned all the tables in the store—twice. An hour into his shift and he'd grown so desperate for business that he called his friend, Kristine Bauer, begging her to come and liven the place up again. She arrived in short order, trademark laptop in tow, and Brad was so grateful he gave her her first frappucino for free.

It was perhaps only a few moments after Kristine had sat down and opened up her laptop that the first of the men arrived. He had entered the store with barely a sound and waited at the counter while Bradley cleaned a pot, staring until the younger man felt his gaze and jumped.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir! Guess I was spacing. What can I get for you?"

The man smiled a crooked sort of smile, raised an elegant pair of eyebrows beneath a pinstriped fedora, and replied, "A mocha latte if you please, Mr. Bradley." He had an ageless quality to his appearance: not young nor old, yet he was incredibly lovely, dressed in a sharp-looking pinstriped suit, with fae features beneath beautiful ebony hair.

Eager to please, the Starbucks employee quickly whipped up the latte and handed it to the customer, who paid in exact change.

"I have four friends who should be arriving to join me shortly," was all he said before walking away and selecting a table to sit at. Bradley could only blink; it was one of the oddest "thank-you"s he'd gotten while on the job. But sure enough, less than five minutes had passed before another man entered the store and joined the first. The second man too, was ageless with fae features, dressed in a brightly colored ensemble that a celebrity might wear, with hair so platinum-blonde it almost seemed white.

"Could I help you, sir?" Brad asked as the man approached the counter.

"Lady Grey Tea, if you please," the man replied, his eyes on Kristine, who was sitting off by herself in a corner and typing on her laptop, "And who is that charming young woman?"

"Who, Kristie?" Brad asked, pouring a mug of hot water and dipping the appropriate tea bag into it, "Good luck there! I've known her for a while now, and if she thinks you're flirting or trying to pick her up, she'll rip them off."

The man waggled his snowy eyebrows. "Sounds kinky." he chuckled before joining the first man at the table. He'd no sooner sat down than a third man entered. This one also had those similar fae features, but his skin was bronzed and his hair a honey-brown. He wore the clothes of a track runner, with a tiny caduceus emblazoned on his tube tank top. Maybe he worked at the local hospital? He met Bradley's eyes on entering and offered him an apologetic smile as he held up a bottle of mineral water, as though to say, "Sorry, I've got my own," the joined the first two, murmuring an apology.

"What are you sorry for?" asked the first, "You aren't late. Come to think of it, I don't believe I can name a time when you've been late. Can you?"

This last bit was aimed at the second man, who simply shrugged without ever taking his eyes off Kristine.

"Still chasing skirts, I see," the third gave a dry snort. The second only shrugged again.

"Do you know when our other companions will arrive?" asked the first pleasantly.

"You ask me that like I know precisely when they're going to get here."

"You usually do."

After that, there was silence for a good five minutes, during which Bradley was left to ponder and conspire. Obviously these men knew each other; their facial structures and slim builds were so similar…Were they all related to each other? And what were they meeting about? Surely there were better places to hold a private meeting than in the middle of a Starbucks…?

Then the fourth man arrived, and he was by far the most different. His wild red hair didn't grow below his jawline and a thin jagged scar marked one of his cheeks. Despite having the same slender build and fae face, he was dressed, Bradley thought, like a bike-gang leader, and upon a glance out the store window he saw that there was indeed a huge Harley parked on the curb. The biker-guy thumped change down on the counter hard enough to make Brad jump half a foot and said, "Just a hazelnut coffee, black."

As he hastened to fill the order, the man turned to face the others.

"Looks like we're just one short of a full circle," he said bluntly, "Where's Fur Face?"

"Probably fashionably late, as always." replied the second man, finally taking his eyes off Kristine and joining the conversation.

"It's a pleasure to see the rest of you once more, if I may say," remarked the third with a nod. Intrigued by the conversation, Bradley finished pouring the coffee, wondering if these men could possibly be mafia and what they meant by saying "Fur Face." He pushed the mug to the fourth man, who accepted it with a small grunt and joined the table.

"I think you should just start already. We can fill her in when she gets here." he huffed, leaning back in a chair and propping his feet up on the table as he took a sip of his coffee.

"She won't like that," the second remarked cheerily," She'll take it as a personal insult. You know how those Egyptian types are."

"She'll get over it." the fourth shot back.

"Are we talking about people behind their backs again?" demanded a soft, angry voice as the door opened again. This time, a tall man with golden-brown skin and shoulder-length black hair entered, dark eyes flashing.

"Oh, poo," grumbled the second, who began to pout, "We were hoping to be joined by the fair visage of someone a bit…curvier."

"You'll live," snapped the fifth as he took a seat. "I wasn't about to walk into this meeting and drown in a sea of testosterone. So…what is this about?"

As one, they turned to regard the first man, who was shuffling a deck of tarot cards. One at a time, he laid six cards out, face down, in a sequence on the surface of the table.

"One by one, the Circles renew themselves," he said slowly. "The Greater Ring of Kings and the Lesser Ring of Queens will be the last to be rehabilitated, but they will come at a later time. Three of the five Green Mothers are already chosen for their Vine. Each of the Warriors are already coming into their full power, but have yet to unite the Chakram."

"Because the Warriors are a stubborn, bull-headed lot." remarked the third, taking a drink of his mineral water. The fifth shot him a poisonous look before the first went on.

"And eventually the Pentagram of the Death-Lords will be renewed as well. We are here, however, for a slightly more obvious reason," he said, flipping over one of the cards, "Our Web of Tricksters."

"Thy own deceitful web, thou meant." the second piped up, blonde hair bouncing, to which he only received a shrug in response.

"I don't see why we must go through with this," grumbled the fifth, "I am still at the peak of strength!"

"Not everyone has your vitality!" snapped the fourth, "Hermes here is already looking amiss."

"I _do_ feel a bit peckish." agreed the third.

"Thus, we _need_ avatars," the first said firmly. "And I believe I know the ones you will choose." At this, he slowly turned over four more cards, flicking one to each of them in turn. For a long time, they were silent as they studied the cards. Finally, they each nodded, and the third turned to him, raising a honey-colored eyebrow curiously.

"I would hazard a guess you know this because you've already selected yours?" he asked, causing the first man to throw back his head and laugh merrily.

"Hardly! It was the other way around!"

The fourth's eyes flicked up, his red eyebrows narrowed. "An avatar, select their chosen entity? That's unheard of."

"Unheard of," the third held up a finger to forestall him, "But not impossible."

"What concerns me most at the moment," the first went on as though nothing had happened, "Is uniting the five."

"You don't already have some scheme to bring them together?" the fifth raised his eyebrows. "How unlike you."

"Hold on now!" said the first, "I have a plan for getting all five to _come together_. Four are being held captive at a nearby laboratory, along with…"

He flipped over the last tarot card and pushed it into the center of the table for them to look at. One by one their eyes widened, the color drained from their faces.

"Impossible." the second exhaled.

"They couldn't have…no one catches…I mean, how could they have known…?" murmured the fourth.

"That's the beauty of it," responded the first, "I doubt these bumbling idiots realize truly what they caught. All they saw was an unsuspecting mutant, and pounced on the poor thing when his guard was down, thinking to take him back to their laboratory for study."

"Then I would hazard a guess you already have a plan to bring all five together with…" the second's eyes flicked to the tarot card again, "That being the crux and catalyst somehow?"

The pinstriped fedora dipped as the first man nodded.

"That could be potentially dangerous for the five," the fifth pointed out, "You know how _his_ kind gets when angered. Blood and fire, he's yet young but his powers are already equal to any of the circles, including our own!"  
>"Yes," the fourth interjected, "But where's the fun in life if you don't take a couple of risks every now and then?"<p>

"You see the aim them," said the first man crisply, "But the five will need some one to unite them, to show them how to use our powers in tandem. A teacher of sorts, if you will."

"Oh, _excellent_!" said the third, flashing a crooked grin, "I happen to know _just_ the woman for the job!"

* * *

><p>Diana woke that morning to a very enthusiastic Michelangelo pulling her off the couch and practically dragging her catatonic form to the small kitchen, where he plunked her down into a chair.<p>

"Yeah, you're looking a little loopy, so I'll get you some breakfast!" he said cheerfully, starting to rummage through the cupboards.  
>"What kind of breakfast?" she asked with a yawn.<p>

"Cereal!"

"Cereal," she murmured, wishing she could fall back asleep on the table, "That'll work."

"Hey, no passing out, sunshine," grumbled a hard voice, and within moments Raphael walked into the kitchen. "Remember, we gotta get you started on ya training today. We ain't gonna start with anything major, but knowing Masta Splinta, he would say it's good for me t' set up a routine for ya."

Blinking, Diana sat up a bit straighter, her sleep-addled brain attempting to work some sense out of what he just said. "Don't you guys have to train every day, too?" she asked.

"Our training usually starts around ten in the morning," Michelangelo jumped in, setting a bowl of cereal before her, "Because we don't always wake up on time."

"You mean, you don't always wake up on time," snapped another voice as Leonardo walked into the kitchen.

"And of course, Splinta Junia here is always perfect," Raphael threw a long-suffering glance in his older brother's direction before looking back to Diana, who had to quickly smother a giggle, "So he always gets up at the crack of freaking dawn."

The blue-clad turtle shot them both a withering look as he prepared himself a bowl of Raisin Bran. "Laugh all you want, but a sound mind and a sound body are made by being well-rested, and I always ensure that I only sleep as much as I need to."

"Leo's got a point, you know." added a serene voice as Donatello arrived. "I'm embarrassed that I don't always wake up on time either."

"G-good morning, everyone…?" Diana tried helplessly, hoping to forestall an argument between Raphael and the other two.

"Man, talk about a delayed reaction!" Michelangelo laughed. "Are you really that out of it, Di?"

"Good morning, Diana." Donatello replied pleasantly, offering her a smile.

"Welcome to the seweh life." Raphael said dryly, his grin crooked.

"And a most pleasant good morning to you all," said another voice as Splinter shuffled into the kitchen, inclining his head. At once, Leonardo bent into a bow and his younger brothers all inclined their heads. Smiling, Splinter nodded at them each in turn, then approached Diana and bowed as well. "And to you as well, Miss Charday, student of my student."

Not wanting to show bad decorum, she got to her feet, pink-faced, and bent her head and a knee, sinking into one of the bows her father had once taught her. The thought of him caused something in her heart to twinge, but she steeled herself against it and rose, smiling back at the rat.

"Thank you, Master Splinter." she answered. The old rat smiled wider, then frowned over his shoulder at Leonardo.

"Aren't you going to greet our guest, my son?" he asked, making the turtle jump. Leo's dark eyes flicked from his master to Diana before he pointedly looked away again.

"Good morning, Miss Charday." he answered stiffly, prompting an amber-eyed glare from Raphael and a frown from the human girl. What the heck was _his_ problem?

"Don't worry," Mikey whispered as though in answer to her unspoken question, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder, "Leo'll come around, you'll see."

"Yeah, if he doesn't give himself a hernia in the process," Raph muttered.

Shortly after breakfast, Raphael ushered Diana into one of the alcoves and had her wait a moment while he went to fetch a few things. He returned shortly with two a number of candles and a box of matches, which he began to set up and light. Diana watched him eagerly.

"Are we going to start with the whole kick-the-flame-off-the-candle thing?" she asked, unable to contain her excitement. He glanced up, giving her an odd look.

"No, we're going to start with meditation."

"Oh…" she murmured, feeling a bit deflated, "Why that?"

"Because I already asked Masta Splinta what would be good t' start with, and he said I gotta teach you to meditate before anything else. That way ya learn discipline."

"…Doesn't seem like something I would see you teaching first."

"Yeah well…I've neveh had a student before, so…" he shrugged, finished lighting the candles and instructed her to sit. "Biggest thing is that you gotta clear your mind. The breathing and whatnot comes easier. 'S kinda like falling asleep sitting up. But you gotta make sure you stay awake."

"So I can't think of anything but I've gotta stay awake?" she grumbled, folding her legs into the sitting position underneath her. "That sounds like a load of bull, if you ask me."

He gave her a glare. "I didn't. Now, close ya eyes and don't think about anything. And I mean, anything."

She gave a huff, shut her eyes and started to breath deeply, trying not to think of anything. But really, it was easier said than done. First she thought about her instructions for the meditation, and tried to ignore them. Then she thought about the fact she was going to be trained in martial arts by a giant turtle and had to supress a giggle. Then her mind continued to wander on that vein of thought and she began to wonder how in the world she'd gotten to this point.

Collins.

Derek Collins had destroyed her home, her heart, and ripped her life out from under her feet. All for the sake of _profit_. For monetary gain.

Unaware of her physical reaction, Diana clenched her fists, tensing her muscles as anger began to pour off her in waves. Rage at the man began to spike and pulse through her very bloodstream, and it was only a couple minutes later when Raphael spoke.

"That doesn't look like relaxing, Diana." he said testily.

She hesitantly stole a peek, opening one eye just enough to see him frowning at her in irritation.

"Sorry," she muttered, "I'm trying, I really am."

"Try harder," he snapped, "Because we ain't learning anything else until you've got meditation down to a science."

* * *

><p>Their meditation had ended on a slightly sour note, with Raphael grumpy that it took her almost the whole hour to finally empty her mind. He didn't say much about it though, and when it came time for the turtles to do <em>their<em> daily training, Diana was pleasantly surprised when Splinter offered to let her stay and watch.

"You'll really let me stay and watch this?" she asked.

"Learning the aspects of many arts is made of seeing and doing in equal measures," the old rat replied, "It is important that you learn to do, but also that you learn through observation."

_That_, she thought, _makes more sense that I thought it would_.

Watching the four brothers run through their training for the day, she realized just how well the turtles functioned as a team. Individually, they were each formidable, but when they drew closer together, moving through their karate forms as a unit, they seemed nearly invincible. Thoughts slowly started to form in her head against her will, a half-dreamed plan began to hatch and take root in the back of her mind. But it frightened her as well, what little bit of it she let herself know, and so she hid it away, not daring to look until the time was right.

_And how will you know when the time is right?_ The voice that was not her own asked in sly tones of mirth. For a moment, she remained silent, watching Donatello deflect lunges from Leonardo's twin _katana_ by spinning his _bo_ rapidly, changing direction in order to keep up with his older brother's speed.

_I don't_, she thought back at the voice, _Or at least, I don't know yet, but I will when the time comes._

The voice didn't respond, but she got the impression she'd amused it, somehow.

After training, all dissipated, sauntering off to each go do their own thing. Michelangelo took the opportunity to beg Diana to play a couple of video games with him, and, not wanting to crush her new friend's spirits, she agreed. They'd gotten through a number of rounds on a racing game and were just starting a new game when Diana caught Raphael walking toward the entrance of the lair, just out of the corner of her eye. Staying still, she just managed to see that he was looking around as though paranoid, then ducked out, checking over his shoulder warily. Instinct tipped her off.

_He's up to something_, her thoughts declared firmly. _He's up to something and he doesn't want anyone to know about it. Well, if I'm going to be trained by a bunch of reptilian ninjas, I may as well try to practice my ninja skills_.

She hopped to her feet, starting after the red-clad turtle.

"Diana?" Mikey asked, confused, "Where are you going?"

Slightly annoyed, she glanced over her shoulder at him and put a finger to her lips sharply for silence, then darted toward the entrance, taking care to keep her footfalls light and centering her weight in the soles of her feet. She was joined in seconds by Michelangelo, who gave her an odd look as they snuck out.

Donatello happened to glance up at this point, just in time to see the tails of an orange mask and the fringes of a deerskin jacket disappearing. Glancing back to some of the alcoves, he hesitated. They were all used to Raphael's odd comings and goings, but if his older brother hadn't told Diana that he didn't like being bothered, it would only mean that trouble was brewing. And knowing Raph, it would eventually cause an eruption. Especially since it seemed Mike had decided to follow their new inquisitive young human friend, rather than talk her out of the idea.

For a moment, the resident genius of the lair was overcome with the urge to tell Splinter and Leonardo what he'd seen.

But only for a moment. The logic that they were probably still meditating eventually won out on that, and quietly, Donatello slipped out of the entrance, following his two brothers and Diana.

They caught up to Raphael pretty quickly once they were topside…or rather, he let them catch up pretty quickly. Diana thought they were doing rather well, gaining on him without him knowing, when they suddenly rounded a corner and found a set of fierce amber eyes glaring at them.

"Oops." she muttered.

"Aww, busted!" Mikey groaned behind her.

"Oh, you're busted alright," Raph growled, "Just which one of ya came up with the bright idea of followin' me?"

"Her, her! It was her!" Michelangelo pointed to Diana.

"I didn't say you had to come along, you dingbat!" she snapped.

Raphael continued to glare at them for a moment, then his gaze slid behind them and his eyes narrowed further. "And what's the big deal with you, wise guy?"

Startled, the orange-masked turtle and the human teenager glanced behind them.

"Who, me?" Donatello asked with a nervous laugh, "I-I-I was just going to tell these two n-not to follow _you_."

The oldest turtle groaned, slapping a hand over his eyes. "Great. I'm freakin' Mama Duck here. Are Masta Splinta and Mista Fearless Leada behind ya?"

"Not to my knowledge." Donatello replied.

"Doesn't mean anything." Raphael shot back.

"Master Splinter and Leo can move like ghosts when they want to." Mike whispered to Diana when he saw the confused look on her face.

"Look, I don't know what got into ya head, Skippy," Raph said, a strain in his voice indicating he was trying to stay patient as he addressed Diana, "But none of ya should be up here. Especially you, Di. It's too dangerous."

"I laugh in the face of danger!" Michelangelo declared stoutly, puffing up his chest. Diana suppressed a snicker.

"Yeah? You'd laugh in the face of a zombie, Mike." Raph growled.

"Z-zombie?" color drained from the youngest turtle's face as he swallowed hard. Unable to resist a bit of fun, Diana raised her arms, letting her hands fall limp at the wrists.

"BRAAAAAINNNNNNNSSSS!" she moaned, causing Mike to shriek and leap into Donatello.

"Would you knock it off?" Raphael snapped, glancing down the other end of the alley.

"What are you up here for, anyway?" Diana asked, turning back to him, ignoring the grumblings of his younger brothers. He hesitated, giving her a sidelong glance.

"None of ya business." he said finally.

"That's not an answer!" she grumped.

"You don't need one, you little spy," he retorted.

"Then why were you sneaking out?" she demanded. He froze, then turned, working his jaw as though about to answer her, when a clatter further down the alley drew all their attention. As one, girl and turtle alike all turned to face the direction the noise had come from. Automatically, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo drew close together, ready to defend themselves against whatever was there. Diana tensed, waiting, her hands balling into fists at her sides. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, a figure started to emerge from the shadows.

She stood taller than the average human woman, with wild brunette hair that fell past her shoulders in a jagged, untamed cut. Dark eyes stared at them from a hard face with a jaw that held something oddly canine in its structure. Her clothes were torn, her shirt at the end and the sleeves, her pants just below the knees, and she walked barefoot as though she'd never worn shoes in her whole life. But the most unusual things about the woman were the jagged scars she bore on one arm, and the huge, lupine ears that began at the top of her jaw and rose above her hair. A second glance showed them there was also a huge, bottlebrush tail gently sweeping the air behind her that emerged from somewhere in her lower back.

"Okay, Donny," Michelangelo asked nervously, "You ever see anything like this before?"

"No," was the uneasy reply, "But I've got a good guess to what we're looking at."

Then the woman spoke.

"There are four of you," she said in mild surprise, her voice rough and strangely rich at the same time, "He said there would be four, but I didn't believe him at the time. Perhaps what he was saying was true then, and he wasn't just trying to get my hopes up after all."

"Okay, lady," Raph spoke up, his hands reaching for his _sai_, "Enough with the babblin'. Tell us who you are, and maybe this won't have to end _too_ nastily."

She stared for a moment, her eyes sweeping all of them, lingering the longest on Diana. It was only a split second, but the girl could have sworn she saw the woman's eyes flash a bright, brilliant gold. Finally the woman looked back to Raphael, a proud tilt to her chin.

"My name is Eva," she answered, "And I need your help."

She nodded, inclining her head to indicate each of them in turn.

"_All_ of your help."


	6. Chapter 5: Escape!

A/N: Fair warning, readers. I know there are some of you that have been...tolerant of Diana's presence in the story, thus far. If you do NOT like excessive use of fancharacters in a fanfiction, then this is probably the time for you to remove Hunting Moon from your Favorites or Alerts lists. Because I'm introducing several more characters in this chapter that are key to helping the plot move along, and they each belong to different friends of mine from deviantArt. To those of you who can stand my use of fancharacters and/or enjoy/support it, thank you. For now, I'm not going to hunt all the connections down at this moment. Just go to .com, look in my gallery for the Hunting Moon chapters, and find chapter 5. I credit all the individual characters to their creators.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 5: Escape!<span>

The building sat in a nook of a space further toward the outskirts of the city, surrounded by a huge wall, like some sort of hidden prison, and the nearest buildings to it were at least five miles away. Whoever had built it liked their privacy and spared no expense to get it.

"So…" Raphael murmured somewhere behind her, "This place got any weak points?"

He wasn't talking to her, she knew, and a brief moment later, Eva answered.

"There is a side door to the left of the main gate," the lupine woman replied, "It's some sort of employee entrance. If you didn't know to look for it, you wouldn't notice it."

"You're right," Donatello chimed in at Diana's side, pointing ahead at a spot in the wall, "It's pretty well-camouflaged. Right there."

"Good," Eva remarked in mild approval, "That door is your best shot to get in. There's a short hall beyond the door that leads directly into the main building. There'll be cameras, if I know humans, and I'd recommend you take those out fast. They'll still raise an alarm and you might still get caught if you end up having a stupid moment, but better to slow them down, even a bit."

"So, um…" Michelangelo said hesitantly, "I don't mean to sound rude or stupid or anything, but…why can't you go in there?"

"I've tried." came the cold reply. "They know me on sight. They probably know how to kill me, too."

"So just curious, lady," Raph growled, "Why, again, are you wanting us to bust in there? We don't know you and we don't owe you anything."

"I told you," Eva answered in a voice that was fast losing its patience, "I was recommended to you. I was told there would be four of you, and that you would be the only ones who could help me."

At this, Diana exchanged a quick glance with the turtles. Whoever mentioned them probably meant the four brothers, not her. She wasn't really of any use in what Eva was asking them to do, and more likely than not, there had been a miscommunication in there somewhere. But Raphael and Donatello both insisted they were better off not going to Leonardo just yet.

"I've got a question," she spoke up at last, and when all eyes turned to her, she went on, "You said there was someone in there you wanted us to find, correct? How are we going to know we've got the right person once we get in there? Assuming we don't get caught, that is."

Eva's eyes searched her for a long moment, that solemn, inhuman gaze stripping away layer after layer, leaving Diana feeling uncomfortably exposed.

"You'll know it's him." was the only answer she received.

The turtles shot her a mixture of sympathetic, skeptical, and withering looks, before Raphael surged to his feet.

"Well, we sure ain't gettin' anything done this way," he huffed, "Let's go."

"Wait! _Raph_!" Donatello grumbled in exasperation, taking off after his brothers.

"Ladies first." Michelangelo said sheepishly, gesturing for Diana to take the lead and looking mildly embarrassed. She inhaled deeply and took off after the other two turtles, taking care to run only on the soles of her feet, the way her dad had taught her when she was little. Unfortunately, the gravel underfoot still stirred here and there as she ran, and though she knew the sound was minimal, she couldn't help but feel clumsy in the wake of the turtles, who seemed to move in total silence by comparison. The distance seemed impossible to cross, and the looming silhouette of the wall seemed to stretch up and brush the sky, making Diana feel incredible small and slow by comparison. But seconds passed quickly, and soon she was pressing her back against the wall, looking at each of the turtles in turn, hoping she wouldn't slow them down. Raphael made a sharp gesture at waist height with his hand, then inched along the wall the concealed side door, peering around to see if it was safe. The coast must have been clear, because he signaled for them to join him, and indicated the locked door to Donatello.

"Hold on," the purple-clad turtle murmured, "This'll take just a second."

Diana's eyes flicked to him briefly as he set to work on the handle, but the small window on the door was more important. She leaned a little closer, catching a quick glimpse of the inside. It was indeed a hallway, as Eva had said, and it seemed every six feet or so from what she could see, there was a tiny security camera mounted toward the top of the wall.

"What are we going to do about those cameras?" she whispered.

"Assuming my judgment is correct," Donatello murmured as he continued to work at the door handle with the butt end of his _bo_ staff and a small tool in his hand alternately, "The cameras probably alternate sides on the walls."

"We can take care of those." Raphael muttered, twirling his _sai_.

"True, we could," Donatello went on, "But I think regardless of whether we take out the cameras or let them spot us, the alarm will still be raised."

"But if we take out the cameras, that mean they won't have footage of us!" Michelangelo protested.

"I don't think we'd be able to get all the cameras, Mike." Diana whispered apologetically.

"Got it!" Donatello exclaimed, and with a small click and a pop, the door swung a couple of inches inward. The four of them looked at each other, exchanging a quick nod, and Raphael pushed the door open, charging down the hallway beyond. Without hesitation, Diana charged after him, heartbeat speeding up with a sort of strange thrill. Behind her, she could barely hear the sounds of Michelangelo and Donatello following, and again, she felt clumsy and loud. Yet they ran down the hall without incident, something that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. This just didn't seem right; it was too easy.

At the end of the hall there was a set of double doors, similar to the sort one might see leading to the kitchen of a nicer restaurant, but it was impossible to see what the room inside looked like. The windows looked like they were blacked out. Diana swallowed over the knot in her throat and decided it was now or never.

"Raph, is it just me, or does this seem way too easy?" she asked.

His hand was on the door by then and he pushed it open.

"Yeah," he muttered, "Way too easy."

The main room on the other side of the doors had a huge ceiling with exposed metal rafters, like the inside of a warehouse, and a set of stairs leading to an open upper landing that stretched into two different hallways. The lower floor was taken up by several oblong tables, huge cyndrilical tanks big enough to fit a grown man in that lined a far wall, many shelves and cabinets, and an opposite wall outfitted with at least ten computers.

"Hey Don? Try not to drool all ovah yahself." Raphael called over his shoulder with a mirthless smile.

"Whoa! Talk about something right out of the sci-fi channel, guys!" Michelangelo exclaimed.

"Anybody else wondering why this room is dark and empty?" Donatello asked.

"Good point," Raphael murmured, "Okay, stealth time, you guys."

They approached the staircase at a soft rush, and Diana did her best to move as quietly as she could, hoping against hope she wouldn't get them caught. As they reached the landing of the second floor, she could hear voices talking, and her heart almost skipped a beat. So there _were_ people here after all! They all froze on the spot, waiting and listening.

"…out of the room just because I made a joke! I mean, really? It's unfair! The guy has no sense of humor!" someone was saying.

"Would you zip it, loudmouth? You know he's got ears like a fox! You'll get us kicked out of this project for good if you can't put a lid on it!" another hissed.

"Quit being such a brown-noser, Harris! Baker's got a point! You know that Blackthorn's a couple sandwiches short of a picnic. It's not Baker's fault Blackthorn can't take a joke." a third jumped in.

"Blackthorn!" the first voice snorted. "Ten to one that's not even his real last name. Guy's a friggin' psychopath."

_These guys_, Diana thought, _Are loud enough to be heard from Times Square._

Evidently the turtles were thinking along the same lines, because Raphael began to slink down the hall toward the voices, and by some unseen agreement, his brothers started to follow. Not wanting to be left behind, but feeling somewhat useless at the same time, she hung close to Michelangelo in the back. Raphael spotted the men first; they were roughly all the same size and build, the nerdy, white lab coat-type, and they were standing outside the door to a room, all talking rather heatedly. They didn't even see Raphael approaching until it was too late.

Diana watched in awe as Raphael dropped into a crouch, kicking the feet out from under the first to spot him, then bounced back up to knock the heads of the other two together with a crack. They sank to the floor unconscious, and the other one began to scramble to his feet, only to take a sharp blow to the stomach as Donatello rushed forward, snapping the _bo_ sidelong to smack the man's abs.

"You're such a brute, Raph." he huffed at his older brother.

"Quit whinin', pansy."

"Guys, what do you think—" Michelangelo muttered, pointing at the door the lab coats had been surrounding, and Raph kicked it in with a grunt. Shouts of panic came from within as the eldest turtle rushed inside, and when Diana rushed to follow, a loud alarm klaxon began to sound and low, red lights flashed throughout the building.

"Guess we finally triggered that alarm." Mikey chuckled nearby.

They plunged inside, where there were more guys in lab coats, but only a couple of guards, who were already falling under blows from Raph and Don. One of the lab coats began to back up, and the motion caught Diana's eye. He was tall and thin, with a pinched face and a broad nose, set beneath beady, insane eyes.

"STOP THEM!" he screamed. "They interfere with the research!"

Donatello had downed one guard and was already turning toward one of the scientists, who had reached for a syringe. Michelangelo ran to help his brother, _nunchaku_ out and spinning, gaining speed as he moved. Raphael gave the guard he'd knocked out one last thump on the head for good measure and lunged for one of the scientists. Diana stole a quick glance at the side wall, and her blood was set to boiling so fast, she charged through without thinking.

Mutants. In enormous, tube-like, Plexiglas cages, were five mutants, all roughly her own age, clothed in torn, blood-stained hospital patient gowns.

She ducked between the turtle brothers, counted herself lucky that she got by them unscathed, and threw herself at the lead scientist, snatching one of the syringes and driving the needle deep into his side. The man let out a terrible scream of pain and twisted, trying to throw her off, and the needle snapped off, leaving Diana holding a useless, broken syringe. With a furious growl, she swung at him, striking his face hard with the syringe before a pair of strong hands pulled her away.

"Are you crazy?" Donatello gasped in shock, and before Diana could break free to hit the scientist again, Raphael was on him, slamming him against one of the test tables and pressing the blade of a _sai_ against his throat.

"I don't know what your damage is, pal," he growled, "But you won't be playin' God again any time soon."

"Fascinating," was all the man could say, staring into Raphael's amber eyes.

"We've got to get them out of here!" Mikey interjected, pointing at the cages, and Diana turned to get a better look at the young mutants.

On the two ends were more mutant turtles, but to her surprise, these were girls. One was watching them curiously with wide, violet eyes, her long, messy blonde hair smacking her shoulders as she pressed her fingers against the glass. The other looked terrified, moving as far back in her little prison as she could, turquoise eyes frightened and hiding behind long brown locks.

The mutants in the two inner cages were also girls, but not turtles. One had been watching the fight with an eager expression and her clawlike nails scraped the inside of the Plexiglas. She looked mostly like a human girl of mixed heritage, but pointed black ears and a long sinuous tail belied that notion, and she watched them with a bright set of cat eyes. The other looked as frightened as the brunette turtle girl, but she was rather tall and covered in soft, chocolate-brown fur that made her rust-colored hair stand out. Hands covered a canine mouth that had gasped in shock, and her mismatched blue and green eyes darted back and forth among them all.

But it was the fifth mutant in the center cage that caught and held Diana's attention.

He looked like a normal seventeen-year-old boy, with long, curly blonde hair that fell to his shoulders, and a rounded baby face that most women would have found utterly adorable. But he too, was far from human. Two huge scarlet octopus tentacles grew out of his shoulders, arching high above his back and writhing restlessly. Two more seemed to sprout from beneath his shoulder blades on his back and they had twisted forward to tap hesitantly at the Plexiglas. He regarded them with a solemn expression, and when he turned his dark blue eyes on Diana, she realized she was in the presence of something ancient, forgotten, and utterly terrible.

This then, was who Eva had wanted them to free.

"_Fraulein_, zhe control panel!" the boy yelled through the Plexiglas, his German accent muffled, "Zhere is a metal lever! Yank it down, _mach schnell_!"

"NO!" the scientist Raphael had pinned down began to struggle and twist, his face contorted in a mix of pain and fury. Diana threw him one quick glare, and when she was positive he couldn't fight off three human-sized turtles at once, she threw herself at the only lever she could see, and pulled down on it as hard as she could. The soft hiss of the Plexiglas sliding into the floor was nearly lost among the sounds of the alarm, as were the sounds of more people running up the stairs in the outer hall.

"We've got company!" Diana called to the turtles, a nervous quaver in her voice.

"Leave zhem to me."

The blonde boy stepped down from his cage, his countenance darkening, the tone of command in his voice drawing everyone's attention. More armed guards rushed into the room, raising several handguns.

Without warning, the sprinklers came on. Diana jumped and looked up. There wasn't a fire. Surely the sprinkler system in such an outfitted laboratory wouldn't malfunction so easily…? But a moment later, the sprinkler heads shook and burst, water gushing from the pipes like so many faucets turned completely on.

"What the—?" Raph blurted out.

One of the guards raised his gun at that, pointing directly at the red-clad turtle, and the blonde boy moved, pointing directly at the man. Three of the jetstreams from ruined sprinklers shot toward the guard and slammed into his chest, knocking him off his feet and into his comrades.

"Sweet!" Michelangelo blurted out, grinning. Diana grinned back at him, then rushed to the female mutants, who flinched back at the sight of her.

"Come on!" she shouted at them, tugging on the blonde turtle and the dog-girl's hands. "We're going to get you out of here!"

"Awesome!" yelled the cat mutant, racing over to join them and dragging the brunette turtle in her wake.

"Yeah, real cute ladies," Raph grumbled, rushing toward the door and drawing both _sai_ as Don knocked out the last scientist, "But we still got a problem! We gotta blow this joint!"

"I can help with zhat." the blonde boy said, and the water gushing from the busted pipes began to erupt ever more violently, rapidly filling the floor and seeping into Diana's shoes. She gave the two girls she had reached for a tug and pulled them after her. The other two followed immediately behind, with Donatello and Michelangelo bringing up the rear. Ahead, Raphael set to work, pummeling through all the guards who had rushed to the scene like some sort of turtle freight train, and the boy with the octopus tentacles rushed close behind him, hands continually gesturing like a music conductor. Every possible pipe, sprinkler or faucet they passed erupted as his hands conducted, water slowly filling the second floor and rushing out to the open landing, spilling down to ground level. One of the guards got past Raphael, and one of the boy's tentacles snatched him off his feet, flinging the man like a rag doll, and Diana nearly froze in shock.

"I'm glad this guy's on our side!" she whistled.

"We kept hearing that he was powerful, but I didn't think he was this powerful!"

She turned in surprise, slowing in mid-run, to look at the blonde turtle, who looked back.

"That man, Professor Blackthorn, he said Arial is the strongest mutant he's ever encountered!" she said, trying to keep her balance as Diana pulled her along.

"Arial?" Diana repeated, dumbstruck. "His name is Arial?"

"W-w-we don't have t-time to ch-chat!" the dog girl stuttered, shaking her head, ears laying flat to block out the alarm klaxon as best she could. She pointed ahead with her free hand, indicating one of the windows. There was a huge outer yard between the building and the wall, where a long drive led to a parking garage and several smaller side buildings. And it was rapidly filling with searchlights and armed guards.

"Crap crap crap crap _crap_!" Diana hissed as they charged awkwardly down the staircase.

"We'll bypass 'em." Raphael called back, indicating the door they'd initially entered the building through.

"I think they thought about that too, Raph," Michelangelo remarked, and they all watched in mounting horror as more guards piled through that same door, pouring out from the hall beyond.

"Zhe doors to zhe main yard!" Arial snapped.

"Are you nuts? We go that way, we're dead for sure!" Raphael yelled back at him as the guards began to slowly organize themselves, advancing with careful steps. A second later, water surged down the staircase with a force that nearly knocked them all off their feet and slammed into the wall of sentries, scattering them into yells of chaos and fright.

"I can get us out of here, but you have to trust me!" Arial snapped, glaring at the red-clad turtle. For an instant, it looked like the two were about to stare each other down, but a second later, Raphael seized Arial and dragged him along.

"COME ON!" he roared at them all, and Diana charged after him, pulling the mutant girls behind her with a second wind. The armed men realized what was going on and started shouting at one another, preparing to follow, but the water renewed its assault on them and pushed them back as the turtles, Diana, and the new mutants headed for the set of glass doors toward the building atrium.

"I hope you know what you're doin', kid!" Raphael muttered at Arial.

"It is how you Americans say…_DUH_!" the blonde boy snapped back. Their little train of mutants pushed through a first set of doors before coming into the building atrium and charging out the main entrance, directly into the outer yard. The searchlights spun about, blinding them all temporarily as they refocused on the intruders, and a couple of the mutant girls yelped in alarm.

"Great. Just great." Raphael muttered.

"So now what…? I sure hope you've got an ace plan up your sleeve, Mr. Arial." Donatello murmured, tightening his hold on his staff.

"Oh man…" Michelangelo groaned, blinking against the bright light, "Leo's gonna _kill_ us when we get home."

Diana glanced between them all, her vision finally starting to refocus, and the dread in the pit of her stomach worsened. More armed guards were advancing, aiming all manner of guns she could think of at them, and the dog-girl whimpered, flinching back. Diana kept her grip before the girl could slip away and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Ohh…" whispered a voice that could only be the brunette turtle, "This is a nightmare…"

"Yeah, a really sucky one." the cat mutant muttered.

_This is great, just peachy,_ Diana thought as they began to tighten their small circle, _You go busting in to play the hero, Diana, and now you're going to pay for it. I haven't even had a chance to get the res deed to Aunt Sephra! I won't be able to see the cops slap a pair of handcuffs on that bastard, Collins…_

"Hold on to each other," Arial spoke in a deeper, powerful voice that seemed to resonate throughout the yard, the echoes of it ringing in the very fiber of their beings, "_Und_ vhatever you do, do not. Let. Go!"

He threw his hands up above his head, and the laboratory erupted like a geyser. Water crashed and shattered the windows on every floor, projecting the glass fragments like a deadly rain toward the armed men. The outer yard began to fill rapidly with standing water, so much that Diana mused the place must have been built over a hundred-some natural wells, and it knocked them all off their feet. The water began to tug and pull, like the ocean tide, rising above their ankles, the wet cold already starting to soak their skin and dampen their bones with its chill. Still Arial kept his hands raised, and repeated his order for them to hold on to one another. Diana tightened her grip on the two mutant girls, and felt a slight measure of relief when the other girls grabbed the free hands of the two she held. Raphael, Michelangelo, and Donatello drew close to one another, linking hands. The men were starting to rally again, only to find their guns had become waterlogged, and Diana and Raph exchanged a smarmy grin. Finally, Michelangelo grabbed the hand of the brunette turtle girl, and Arial brought his hands down to waist level before snapping his arms out wide.

"HOLY SHELL!" Michelangelo yelped.

The water around them began to spin, slowly at first, but it quickly gained speed, turning into a huge whirlpool that rose as it completed each rotation. It pushed at them, lazily, then pulled them all completely off their feet, until they were trapped in a huge, cyclonic waterspout. It didn't stop, either; the spout rose higher and higher, rising high above the outer wall of the laboratory. The spinning threatened to make them all sick, and the force of the spout tore at their grips, but along their small line they all shifted here and there, refusing to let go. Diana thought it was a terrible parody of a waterpark ride, and the notion only grew worse as the spout rose higher and crashed over the side of the wall, whipping into such a high speed it easily could have outraced a sports car as it tore away from the building. The alarm klaxon began to fade, and the spout lowered, lengthening into something more like a corkscrew water tunnel.

"I feel sick!" the cat mutant groaned.

"Just hang on!" Diana shouted.

Their uncanny vehicle continued to crash through an unseen path, the walls of water on either side spinning so quickly that everything outside blurred into an indistinct, kaleidoscopic haziness. There was no time in the water tunnel, only a terrible sense of urgency and a need to escape. Several minutes may have passed, maybe even an hour. Or perhaps it all happened so quickly there really was no saying how long their rough ride went for. Adrenaline pumped through them all, and finally, when the waterspout set them down none-too-gently and dissipated, it was a great effort of control and a huge sense of relief that kept the girls from panicking and the brothers from jumping into action.

"Where are we?" Donatello murmured, looking around.

"Ugh…I dunno, but I'm ready to lose my supper…and my lunch." Michelangelo moaned. Diana sat up, shaking the water from her hair, and glanced at her friends. Raphael was already on his feet, tense with his _sai_ drawn, looking around for any possible threat. Mikey stumbled to a nearby trash can to throw up, but otherwise he seemed okay. Donatello was getting to his feet, his face pale, and he too began to look around, taking in both their surroundings and the mutant girls. Diana leaned forward, reaching out to touch the shoulder of one of them.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently. It was one of the turtle girls. She coughed roughly, her dark locks plastered to her face and back by the water, and gave a weak nod.

"Been better," she murmured, "But I've been way worse, too."

"And the rest of you?" Diana turned to regard the others.

"I'm okay," the blonde turtle answered, trying to comfort the dog mutant, who was whimpering and shaking in terror.

"That," the cat mutant said, her eyes bright and a grin spreading over her face, "Was totally awesome! I wanna go again!"

"Not on yah life," Raph growled, turning to glare over his shoulder. "We coulda been killed."

"But you veren't."

They all spun together, watching as Arial approached them, and Diana realized for the first time that he hadn't been in the waterspout with them. Not only that, but somehow he'd changed his clothing. No longer clad in the hospital gown, he sported enough black leather and studs, he could have easily passed for some sort of biker.

_A biker version of the angel Gabriel, with that hair_, Diana thought in wry amusement.

"I cannot thank you all enough for what you have done." another voice added softly from behind them, and they spun again. Eva was approaching them, a relieved smile on her face, and she opened her arms wide. Arial readily walked into her embrace, smiling for the first time since they all had seen him, and Diana realized with a sad pang what she was seeing.

"_Frau_ Eva _ist mein Aufseher_," Arial said quietly, "My guardian. I vas taken from her by those men."

"They captured him when I wasn't looking." Eva declared, her eyes seeking out Diana and the turtle brothers. "I can never forgive myself for that. Thank you. Thank you all for saving my Arial."

"Hey, no problem." Michelangelo said weakly as he tried to keep his balance.

"It was a cakewalk." Raphael said with a shrug, drawing an odd look from Donatello, and Diana had to bite her lip. The older turtle must have realized the same thing she did, otherwise he probably would have exploded on Eva for what she'd gotten them into.

"Thank you." Eva replied again. She turned, beginning to walk away, but Arial didn't budge. He watched them all carefully, giving the brothers a quick nod before studying Diana and the mutant girls. Once more, the young human felt that she was under the gaze of something ancient, awesome, and terrible, and a slight sense of panic rose in her. They had just helped save Arial's life! Surely he wouldn't turn on them…?

"Vhat an interesting circle you five make," he remarked. "You are all going to become very good _freunds_, I can tell. You must hang onto zhat. _Freundship_ is not a gift to be taken lightly."

His gaze settled on Diana and he blinked slowly. "I am in your debt, _fraulein_."

"What are you talking about?" she asked. "We all went in there to save you."

"Zhese mutants are noble, _und_ I vould not question zhat. But I am not one to trust humans," he answered in a voice soft and deadly, "You could have very easily made zhe choice not to pull zhat lever. But you did, _und_ I owe you _mein Leben_. I intend to repay it in full vhen zhe time is right, make no mistake."

He turned and started to walk in the direction Eva had gone. The lupine woman had vanished, but a lean, huge wolf the color of dark chocolate waited for the boy, watching Arial patiently with large, golden eyes. Then Arial paused again, and glanced over his shoulder and tentacle.

"A vord of advice for you, _fraulein _Diana. As Friedrich Nietzsche once wrote, 'Battle not vith monsters, lest ye become a monster, _und_ if you gaze into zhe abyss, zhe abyss gazes into you.'"

Then he turned away, leaving them stunned with half-formed questions on their tongues, and vanished.


	7. Chapter 6: Not The One

**A/N: And after a far-too-long delay, you all have chapter six at last! And some interesting developments have occurred along the way, but I won't say what those are. You're going to have to RAFO: Read And Find Out. All OCs that are used are credited back to their creators in the copy of this chapter in my deviantArt gallery. R&R please!**

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><p><span>Chapter 6: "Not The One…"<span>

It had taken little time for Raphael to insist to all of them they needed to go underground, and after a lot of persuasion on the part of Diana, Donatello, and Michelangelo, they finally managed to get the other mutant girls to descend into the sewers with them. In the end, the threat of being found by humans was a greater terror than the sewers themselves, and the girls hovered desperately behind Diana.

Raphael and Donatello led the way, arguing about what they were going to tell Leonardo and Splinter when they got back to their home, and Michelangelo brought up the end of their odd little train, guarding the rear. Diana trotted behind the two oldest turtles, pulling along the brunette turtle girl. Behind her, the cat mutant eagerly was taking in everything she saw, and continually urged those behind her to follow. The blonde turtle girl complied readily, gently coaxing along the dog mutant, who remained constantly on the verge of tears.

"We're all going to have to apologize, Raph." Donatello sighed in exasperation before turning to Diana and adding, "That goes for you too, Di."

"I know that." She muttered, feeling chided.

"Lay off the kid, Don." Raphael grumbled. "We know we're gonna have to apologize. Besides, don't they say it's betta to beg f' forgiveness than askin' permission?"

"He's got a point." Mike piped up from the rear.

"But what's Leo going to see that as?" Donatello argued. "You _know_ it's just going to cause another fight between you guys."

"Then I'll handle that, Don." Raphael replied, his tone saying the discussion was closed. His younger, purple-clad brother frowned.

"Yeah. You will." he sighed.

More to diffuse some of the tension than anything, Diana shook her head and turned to address the mutant girls.

"So…I know we're going to have to worry about finding a place for you guys to stay and all, but…it feels kind of awkward, just walking around with you and not saying anything." She remarked. "What are your names?" The dog-girl and the blonde turtle instantly looked up, mixed emotions flashing across their faces, and Diana threw her hands up quickly. "Hey, I didn't ask for your life's story or anything. And you don't have to tell anyone that if you don't want to. I just wanna know what your names are."

The turtle brothers immediately glanced at the mutant girls all together, and when no one offered up a single word, Diana let out a groan, stopping in her tracks to halt their little procession.

"Fine, I'll go first if it makes any of you feel better," she said, turning to indicate each turtle, "The big guy is Raph, that's Don, Mike's the peanut gallery back there—"

"Hey, there's more to me than peanuts!"

"Sorry, buddy. And I'm Diana."

"You're a human." The dog-girl remarked softly, her muzzle crinkling.

"Yeah, long story, tell it to you later," Diana sighed, "Come on, what are your names?"

"Hunter!" The cat-girl offered up eagerly, striking a pose with her outstretched nails. "I guess you can say I come by it naturally."

"I'm Spyra." The brunette turtle said with a smile.

"Lola." The blonde turtle chimed in, inclining her head to them all before gently prodding the dog-girl, who cast her mismatched eyes to the floor.

"M-my name is A-Allegra." She muttered.

"Ya mean like the allergy medicine?" Raph remarked with a skeptical expression.

"Like the Roman princess!" Allegra whimpered, her timid voice raising slightly.

"It's not a bad name," Lola offered kindly, giving her friend's shoulder a squeeze.

"See now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Diana said, folding her arms with a smile.

"So do you guys all live down here?" Hunter asked, "Just the four of you?"

"We've got another brother, Leo," Michelangelo explained, "And Splinter, too."

"Don't forget about Leatherhead," Donatello added.

"Leatherhead?" Diana parroted, turning to give him a puzzled frown. "This is the first time I'm hearing about a 'Leatherhead.' Who's that?"

"Our friend," he replied, "We'll introduce him to you later. Right now, we have to worry about getting back home before anything else."  
>"But I'm already tired…" Allegra protested.<p>

"Same here." Spyra added, stifling a yawn.

"I think we're all a bit tired." said Lola.

"Not me!" Hunter shook her head, grinning, "I'm wired!"

"Come to think of it, I'm kind of worn out too." Michelangelo said, turning to give his older brothers a look. "What are we going to do, you guys?"

Raphael and Donatello exchanged a look, their faces set in pensive frowns.

"We hafta get back home."

"But it's still at least an hour's walk, if my estimation is accurate. We shouldn't force them to keep going right away. Raph, if they're tired, we should stop and all rest for a bit, then keep moving."

The red-clad turtle gave a soft growl, taking one glance around at the mutant girls and his brothers, finally giving Diana a look that clearly said he was trying to keep a lid on his temper. At last he made a noise that was something between a groan and a sigh, and started massaging his temples.

"Fine, Donny. Fine. Do ya have anything on ya that can keep track of time?"

"I thought you'd never ask." His younger brother gave him a wry grin, pulling a device out of his shell and fiddling with the levers on it. Raphael turned and addressed them all.

"I'm givin' us two hours to stop and sleep for a bit. But after that, we're movin' on. Any objections?"

None of the girls spoke up.

"Right. Might as well get comfortable now. In two hours, we're gonna be takin' a little walk again."

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><p>They hadn't been asleep long when the shadows appeared on the opposite sewer wall. They stretched out of nowhere, cast by nothing, finally taking vague human shapes. Then, quite suddenly, the invisibility ceased, and five figures stood on the cement walk near the sleeping party. They watched curiously for a moment, trying to determine how deeply the turtles and their tag-alongs were sleeping. When they were finally certain that their presence would rouse none of them, they began to speak.<p>

"Is it not as I told you all?" asked the first, removing his pinstriped fedora and gazing fondly down at the girls, like a grandfather watches his sleeping grandchild.

"They have endured much, and yet they still have strong spirits." The tall Egyptian rumbled in his soft voice. He walked down the line until he stood before the cat-mutant, observing the girl quietly with his golden eyes.

"Didn't I say you'd like her?" The man in the pinstripes inquired.

"She is strong, eager, and almost totally fearless," the Egyptian said in a voice of approval, "She is worthy of the gift."

He reached out and gently brushed his fingertips across the cat-mutant's head, tiny sparks of yellow light erupting from the touch. Then he stepped back with a nod, and looked down the line of his fellows. The next to move was the man with bright garb and platinum-blonde hair, and he bounced over to brunette turtle-girl, tilting his head from side to side as he observed her.

"Oh, I do like this one!" He said happily, tossing a grin to his friends before looking back at her. "Sweet, a laugher, and a wistful romantic on top of it all! She is also worthy of the gift."  
>Small tendrils of ivy-green light curled about his hand as he touched her forehead, and disappeared as he drew away. He glanced down the line at the others, prompting the honey-blonde man in the jogger's outfit to move next. He stepped forward, then paused, pensive, and continued on, crouching down in front of the blonde turtle.<p>

"She is brave, resourceful, and quick-thinking," he murmured in mild surprise before smiling at last and reaching out his hand, "She too, is worthy of the gift."

Bright blue, glowing rings of energy spun around his hand and wrist as he touched his fingers to her forehead, slowly vanishing as he pulled away. He stepped back into his place, glanced at the others, and they all turned to look at the final man, the redhead in leather. But what they saw came as a shock.

He was glaring, scowling disdainfully down at the dog-mutant, slowly shaking his head. It was a look of deep disgust, one they had rarely seen him show before.

"No." he said firmly.

"No?" asked the man in the pinstripes.

"What do you mean, 'no?'" demanded the Egyptian.

"I mean precisely what I said," the redheaded man snapped irritably, tossing them all a glare before redirecting it on the dog-girl, who whimpered and turned in her sleep, "_This_ child, as _my_ avatar among mortals? Surely you're joking."

The other men said nothing, glancing among themselves. Certainly Loki had always been rather picky, but this was another matter entirely. He took their silence as a cue, and continued to scoff at the notion for them.

"She is too weak-willed to be of any fun or use to _me_. I'm surprised she even has a backbone. She's cowardly; look how she clings to _your_ avatar, Hermes, even in her sleep!" He spat, indicating the dog-mutant's hand clutching tightly at the blonde turtle. "She's too frightened to even think straight, I daresay. She's hardly a fighter by any stretch of the imagination, and furthermore, her compatibility for my magic is completely _wrong_. No, she is not the one. I _refuse_ to let her host my power as an avatar."

"Not only that," murmured the platinum-blonde man, coming over to get a better look at the tossing and turning girl, "But I have a feeling this one's already been contacted by another Immortal." He leaned in a bit closer, tilting his head to the side as he watched. "From the residual magical signature, I daresay it might be one of your kin, Hermes."

The honey-blonde man blinked in surprise, turned and exchanged a shrug with the man in the pinstripes, who only offered up a helpless smile.

"Puck would know better than the rest of us." The pinstriped man conceded, making the platinum-blonde man grin in an annoyingly superior way.

"I'll have to get in contact with the other Olympian Immortals, then," Hermes sighed in resolution, "See if I cannot convince whoever contacted this girl to make themselves known."

"Well this is a bit of a problem." The Egyptian grumbled, crossing his arms. "What are we going to do about her? She's not worthy of the Trickster gift, and she'll only get in the way of the Web's forming."

"Be at your ease, Baast my friend," crooned the man in the pinstripes, "Let us allow this…Allegra to remain at the side of our avatars….for now. This could prove to be a most interesting development."

Loki gave a contemptuous sniff as he gave the dog-mutant one final look, then turned away, tilting his nose into the air. "You always _were_ one for sympathies, Anansi." He remarked. The man in the pinstripes smiled coldly, donning his fedora again.

"Only when it suits my own ends," he replied, "I rarely find myself being charitable simply for the sake of playing the good Samaritan."

He turned slightly, his dark eyes landing on the young human girl in the deerskin jacket, and he shook his head, still smiling.

"I should have thought you would know that, dear Diana. But perhaps you weren't thinking when you called me."

"Oh, wouldja keep all the yammering down…?" a voice suddenly yawned, and all of them snapped to, staring in surprise at the turtle clad in orange as he stretched, blinking sleepily.

"He's awake." Baast said in shock.

"Yes, we noticed." Loki said dryly.

"You must have quite the sixth sense in order to feel our presence," Hermes addressed the young turtle kindly, "Most mortals are unable to wake from slumber when under the influence of our power."

Michelangelo blinked rapidly, brow furrowing under his mask as he slowly took each one of them in. "Okaaayyy…you dudes are good, right?" He asked.

At this, Hermes and Anansi began to chuckle, and Loki laughed sharply.

"We can be…when the occasion calls for it." Baast answered with a smile.

"But…how did you find us? What are you guys even talking about?" He said, when his eyes fell on Diana, then snapped up to Anansi. "What do you want with Di?"

"I'm afraid young reptile," Puck intoned dramatically, "That it is time your questions come to an end. Sleep is just around the bend."

He gave Michelangelo a small pat on the top of his head, and the turtle gave another huge yawn, reaching for his _nunchaku_, fighting to stay awake.

"Have you any complaints, then Puck shall make amends." He trilled.

Michelangelo finally stopped struggling, yawned one last time, rolled over onto his side, and was out like a light.

"Oh I do so love doing that!"

"Do you always have to say it in rhyme?" Baast grumbled.

"It sounds more elegant that way." Puck said with a pout.

"And as always, we are grateful to you for the help, old friend," said Hermes, "I doubt any of us could master sleep spells quite as well as you."

"Will he remember any of this when he wakes up?" Loki asked, gently nudging Michelangelo with the tip of a boot.

"If he does, he'll think he was dreaming." Puck answered airily.

"That is preferable." Anansi said quietly. "There are some things better left forgotten until the time is right."

"You mean, until we say the time is right." Loki and Puck giggled.

"Indeed." Anansi said, spinning on his heel to face Diana. She frowned in her sleep, hugging her arms tightly, and there was the muffled sound of paper creasing ever so slightly coming from within her deerskin jacket.

"Only way you're getting this envelope is over my dead body, rat-faced bastard." She muttered in her sleep, flicking out both middle fingers, causing all five of the men to chuckle quietly.

"She's got quite the charming personality, hasn't she?" Loki cocked an eyebrow.

"She's not exactly what I would expect, Anansi." Hermes remarked. "If you'd picked on your own, I think you would have gone for a more pliable avatar. Someone who's easier to make laugh."

"Oh, certainly." He replied pleasantly, "But as I said, she called me first, and quite frankly, I find her amusing enough that I went ahead and decided to just roll with it, for lack of a better turn of phrase."

He crouched down, reaching out slowly, and touched his fingertips to Diana's forehead, thin white tendrils of his power twisting over her visage. The energy web moved tentatively and brushed a thick lock of her hair at the roots. Slowly, where the web had touched moved, as though brushed by an invisible breeze, and abruptly turned a violent shade of brick red. Smiling in his rather crooked way, Anansi straightened and got to his feet, glancing at the new streak in the human's hair in a proud fashion.

"She's going to be mad when she sees that," Puck pointed out in a bored drawl, "Make it easier for that Collins fellow to spot her in a crowd."

"Perhaps."

"You did that on purpose." Hermes waggled an accusing finger.

"Didn't I just get done saying I do things if they meet my ends?"

"You're quite the wicked old spider, Anansi." Baast mused.

"Oh, but I'm so very good at it." He said, smiling. The others started to disappear in the sewer's gloom one by one, but he stopped to give Diana one last appraisal as she rolled in her sleep. "And don't worry so, my dear. In time, you and your little girls will come to appreciate our gifts. You'll lead them most splendidly, I should think. But in the meantime, your teacher is waiting back at that subway station, and the boys and I must go fetch the last little trickster girl to complete your _true_ circle of five."

Then he spun on his heel and vanished.

And somewhere far above, high in an apartment overlooking the busy New York streets, far from prying eyes, Casey Jones's niece, Gabriella, turned over in her sleep with a soft murmur as the cool fingertips of a Trickster Immortal brushed her forehead.

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><p>AN: Me again. So apparently Allegra is not the proper host for a Trickster Immortal's bond or power, but she's been selected to host the power of a different Immortal. And poor Mikey, so susceptible to the power of the supernatural world. He'll know something is going on, without even knowing that he knows. For those of you unable to cope with the sudden inclusion of supernatural elements and mythological figures in a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fanfiction, I recommend you leave now and save your sanity. This is NOT the fanfic for you.


	8. Chapter 7: We Find A Crazy Old Bat Lady

**A/N: Holy. Freaking. Crap. As if this chapter wasn't already long-overdue! I checked the data for it, and I've not updated it SINCE LAST JUNE. Good lord, I'm horrible...*dies in the Corner Of Shame* Well, in all honesty, I had a much cooler chapter title in mind, but since Hunting Moon seems to be the only fanfic I write where I have silly, goofy title chapters, I just stuck with what I'd been doing. As always, credit for each fancharacter appearing is given to the creators in the copy of this chapter that is on my deviantART account. Please R&R!**

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><p><span>Chapter 7: We Find A Crazy Old Bat Lady<span>

Diana felt groggy, light-headed, disoriented when Raphael nudged her awake, and if the reactions from the mutant girls was any sort of gauge, so did they. Even Michelangelo seemed a bit out of it, leaning on Donatello for support for a few minutes. She tried to clear her head, shake away the dregs of sleep, and the lingering nightmares of Derek Collins coming after her. It barely made a difference, and she got to her feet with a whining groan.

"C'mon, you guys," Raph said, not unkindly, "Sooner we get movin', the betteh. We ain't far from home now."

"Good," Don groaned, "We've been gone long enough already. I don't even want to _think_ about what Leo and Master Splinter are going to say."

"Hold-hold on a second," Diana murmured, rubbing her head, trying to gesture to indicate the other girls, "Don't forget about them. They need a place to stay."

"But our place isn't big enough for all of you ladies," Donatello protested calmly, ever the practical one, "There's no room-"

"I know a place." Michelangelo butted in, tossing Diana a reassuring wink before smiling at the other girls. "Don't worry; you'll have a safe place to crash for a while."

"Now that that's settled, can we get a move on?" Raphael demanded. "My stomach's startin' ta feel empty."

The others made mutters of consent, and they began to fall back in line, eager to get to a safer place. Diana was about to begin talking to the cat-mutant, Hunter, when there came a soft tap on her shoulder. She glanced around, only mildly surprise to find herself staring into blue eyes skeptically examining her.

"What's up, Mike?"

"Nothing, it's just...have you always had that streak in your hair?" He asked. "No offense! It looks wicked awesome, but I don't remember seeing it before."

She took a step back, alarms going off in her head. What was he talking about?

"Mikey, I don't..._have_...a streak in my hair." She said slowly, waiting to gauge his full reaction. What was this, some kind of joke? If it was, she didn't find it funny. He stared back at her, scrunching his green face in confusion.

"Yeah, you do." He said slowly, and when she glanced at the other girls, they were nodding, eyes wide and staring. She scoffed, half-amused by the ridiculousness of it all.

"Oh _really_?" She said with a snort. "You guys are all telling me that I went to sleep looking normal, and now that we're all awake, suddenly I've got a streak of color in my hair?"

"Yes." Hunter, Spyra, and Allegra all chorused.

"Big bright tomato-red streak." Lola clarified with a slow nod. Diana's eyes went wide and she faltered for a moment, feeling her hands go clammy. What the hell was going on? This couldn't be a joke, not with all of them in on it. Hunter, she seemed like a joker as much as Michelangelo did, and she wasn't sure about Spyra, but Lola and Allegra seemed too...honest to joke about something like that. She looked back to Donatello and Raphael, who had spun around by this point to see what was happening, and their faces too, twisted in surprise and confusion.

"No, Diana, you _do_ have a streak in your hair now..." Don said slowly, as though not sure what he was seeing. "Not that that should really be possible, but..."

"But what?!" She wasn't successful in keeping the panic from her voice.

"Well..." Don jumped, startled by her outburst and looking somewhat panicked himself, "I guess I could run some tests on it when we get back and I've got my equipment. Heck, maybe even Leatherhead could help. But this doesn't really make sense..."

"Then I say we worry about it then," Raph spoke up, tone softening a bit when he looked to her and added, "'Till then, just be happy, 'cause it makes ya look like a bad-ass."

"Ugh, it still doesn't make sense!" She grumbled as they resumed walking, and she folded her arms, chewing her lower lip. Her mind was already starting to nudge her to a possibility, a reason, an explanation for the sudden change to her hair, but she wasn't ready to hear it. Her other voice started to say something, but she spoke up again in an effort to drown it out. "And who is this Leatherhead you guys keep talking about?"

* * *

><p>Her question still hadn't been graced with a straight answer from any of the three brothers by the time they reached the lair once more, but the second they were inside the safe walls, any desire to keep pressing the matter flew from her mind. They were met at the door by Leonardo, his face thunderous and his posture suggesting they were about to get an extensive lecture.<p>

"Leo, hey!" Michelangelo started, darting ahead to try to smooth things over, "We were just-"

"Gone the entire night." His elder brother snapped. "Where the heck were all of you?"

"Gee, Leo," Raphael growled in response, "If you were _so _concerned, why didn't ya just come an' find us, huh?"

The folds of Leonardo's blue mask tightened as his eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. The air charged with tension, and chills ran down Diana's spine. Unsurprisingly, she got the feeling the other girls were flinching, and she thought she heard Allegra let out a small whimper of fear. Neither of them looked ready to back down, and Donatello and Michelangelo started exchanging worried glances, probably wondering whether or not to jump in and break up a fight.

"Oddly enough, Raphael," Leo shot back, words crushed as he spoke through gritted teeth, "I stayed out of it. Mostly because Master Splinter had his reasons for asking me to. And because I couldn't be rude to our new guest."

"Rude to me? How would following us be rude to me?" Diana asked, unable to stop herself. Leonardo's eyes flicked onto her and he frowned a little, some of the tension leaving his body.

"Not you, Diana," he answered, "Our _other_ new guest. She showed up right about the same time we noticed you were all missing last night."

"What?" The word circulated among their number in a series of gasps, followed by many a furtive glance between the mutant girls. Wordlessly a silent agreement passed between them all, and Raphael relaxed, uncurling his fists and nodding to his older brother. Leonardo scanned his brother's expression for a moment, then nodded back and gestured for them to follow him inside. They passed through the entrance hall and into the main room, the high ceiling stretching above them, and in the center of the room, perched on the couch talking together, sat Master Splinter and one of the most unusual mutants Diana had seen yet.

She was a bat mutant, with lines in her face that placed her around Splinter in age, and she was covered in soft, tawny fur that clashed with the black membrane of her wings. She was sipping at a small cup of tea as she spoke with Splinter, eyes closed, and a gnarled old walking stick lying in the crook of her arm. Though she never looked up from her tea, her large ears quivered as they stood on end, and they swiveled about on her head, tilting toward the door as the turtles, the mutants and she entered.

"Ahh, they've arrived. If you'll pardon my interruption, good sir." The bat-mutant crooned in a high-pitched voice, turning her head slightly to face them, never opening her eyes. "And what fine timing, at that! Come closer, children! Come closer!"

"Children?" Raphael spluttered incredulously.

"Raph..." Leonardo murmured in a low tone of warning.

"All of you, come here, come here!" She insisted, gesturing with her claws for them to approach.

"Children," Splinter said in a strange tone of voice that the turtle brothers had rarely heard him use, "May I introduce you all to Sensei Luna?"

"Sensei Luna?" Donatello asked.

"Hi, Sensei Luna!" Michelangelo exclaimed, rushing forward to shake the bat woman's hand, "It's really nice to meet you!"

A smile turned up the corners of Sensei Luna's muzzle and she tilted her head to the side, ears flicking back and forth.

"So eager!" She said with a small laugh. "You must be Michelangelo. And the other one who spoke is your brother, Donatello. He has a very calm, even voice."

Donatello jumped, face flushing, and stuttered as he shuffled closer to the bat.

"H-how did you k-know that was me?" He asked, and Sensei Luna smiled brightly.

"Your brother Leonardo has spoken to me extensively of you all," She answered before flicking her ears toward the group again, "Where is Raphael? I thought I heard him a moment ago."

"Heard?" Mike said for a second before glancing at the walking stick and exclaiming in comprehension, "OH! I got it, you're-"

"_Mike_!" Don hissed, driving his heel into his younger brother's foot. "Be polite!"

Luna let out a low chuckle before taking a few careful steps forward, her mobile ears slowly moving like large radars. Within a few seconds, her head snapped about and faced Raphael with an eerie sense of confirmation, and she rapped the butt end of her walking stick against the floor.

"Why is it you hang back from your brothers, Raphael? You give off waves of tension, uneasiness, distrust. Come, come, I mean no harm." She said calmly.

"M-ma'am." He responded awkwardly, face flushing in chastized embarrassment, and Diana let out a barely contained giggle at the sight. But immediately she wished she hadn't, as the bat woman's head turned to her, and Sensei Luna's eyes opened at last, revealing deep brown eyes that were filmed over with blindness. If she had been able to see once, Diana realized, her eyes must have been nearly black.

"Ahh, yes. Miss Diana Charday." She murmured in a voice so low almost none of them could make out the words. "I have been expecting you, as well as the four you have brought in your wake."

There was no ominous tone to her words, no hidden threat, no sense of foreboding whatsoever. And yet, chills ran down Diana's spine as though she could feel Derek Collins' shadow spilling across the walls like shadowy ink, waiting to hunt her until death. Luna had been expecting her? Well, it made sense, if Leonardo and Splinter had sat up talking with the old bat lady all night. But there was something, almost like another level to her statement, that led her to believe that Sensei Luna would have been expecting them all even if Splinter and Leo hadn't been talking with her. And apparently, she wasn't the only one who had gotten that impression either.

"What do you mean, you were expecting them?" Michelangelo asked, before catching himself and awkwardly adding on, "Err...S-sensei Luna?"

"Come on, Mike, you just heard Leo say that he and Master Splinter were talking with her last night!" Donatello groaned.

"No, do not chastize your brother, Donatello," Sensei Luna crooned, turning and offering the two youngest turtle brothers a reassuring smile. "He asks a valid question; do not seek to silence him because his ears hear what yours do not."

"Huh?" More than a few voices chorused the word in confusion, and with another gentle laugh, the bat mutant urged them to come further into the sitting room, gesturing for each and every one present to sit in a half circle around her as she resumed her perch next to Splinter on the careworn sofa. After they had nearly all settled comfortably, Luna started to gentle prod and nudge the girls with the end of her walking stick, pushing them all closer together. Then at last, she began to speak, her high voice taking on the lofty tones of a well-versed storyteller.

"I was sent here by my master, to guide the five young women who would weave again the greatest Web ever known."

"Oh great, I'll just go get Donny's index of prophecies tah look this up in, huh?" Raphael said in exasperation, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes with a snort before Leonardo shot him a warning look. If Sensei Luna had heard his remark, she gave no indication of it.

"The Web of Tricksters..." Luna said, voice ocillating up and down as she seemed to become lost deep in thought, "Born of the unified powers of the gods of mischief: Puck, Baast, Hermes, Loki, and...Anansi the Spider."

Diana's eyes shot wide open and her body broke out in a cold sweat.

_Oh dear. Tried so hard to forget about those 'minor' details, didn't we?_

Her teeth clenched and she shut the voice out in a panic, trying to throw all her focus into what the old bat lady was saying.

"The mythological gods?" Donatello said skeptically.

"I do not need to launch into a theological discussion to see that you doubt my words." Luna said with a wry smile before continuing. "But take my word when I say my master Hermes sent me here for a purpose; the Web of Tricksters must renew its strength by drawing on the energies of their living, mortal avatars, and so I am here to guide and train these avatars in conducting and controlling the use of their new...abilities."

"Renew its strength?" Lola spoke up.

"Living mortal avatars?" Spyra murmured.

"D-drawing on energy...?" Allegra murmured.

"New abilities?" Hunter exclaimed, her ears shooting straight up and her tail puffing in excitement. "Oh my gosh, lady, if you're talkin' about what I think you're talkin' about-"

The twisted end of the bat mutant's walking stick swung down and gently rapped the cat mutant on her head in a display of mild irritation.

"Watch how you word yourself!" Luna's shrill voice snapped, "You are to call me 'Sensei,' 'Sensei Luna,' 'madame,' or 'Your Most Young, Beautiful, Esteemed Graciousness!'"

At this, Michelangelo caught Splinter's eye, and the two exchanged a stifled snicker.

"Sorry, madame." Hunter muttered as she sat back, ears drooping, mullified.

"Hmph," the bat lady huffed, "Apology accepted. But yes, I do believe everything you are each thinking is exactly what my words have led you to believe. And Diana is the one who knows this to be true."

"Me?" She exclaimed, color draining from her face. She wanted to scream a denial, to say this whole thing was absolutely insane...but those milky, unseeing dark eyes fixed her with a stare so intense her throat seized up and her mouth ran dry.

"You." The bat woman's voice went cold. "You are the one whose actions caused this to occur before the proper time. If the natural cycle of the Tricksters had been allowed to renew as it always does, then the Trickster gods themselves would have selected their avatars of their own accord. They would have chosen freely the mortals they wished to share their powers with in exchange for life energy, not be forced into an unlikely spiritual connection they weren't prepared for."

"And why are you accusin' Di of this...ma'am?" Raph asked in a testy voice.

"Because it was she who called for Anansi's aid when preparing to run from the man who killed her father for greed." Luna responded, shifting where sat.

"Wait! Wait a minute!" Diana snapped, surging to her feet, slapping a hand to her chest. "You're saying that me asking Anansi-asking the spider god for help just on some whim because I was scared-is causing this whole freaky avatar-icon-whatever thing to happen?"

"Precisely." The older woman answered crisply, as though it were simply elementary knowledge and nothing at all out of the ordinary. "Somehow you forged the mortal-avatar contract with Anansi when you called for his aid and he answered. As a result, the rest of the Trickster Web has been forced to claim their avatars, and no doubt, as per Anansi's dictations and scheming..."

Her blind eyes shut and her head swiveled, ears flicking, in a gesture that swept over the mutant girls present, and they shuddered as one, Allegra clinging to Lola, whimpering.

"They have chosen you." She finished. A heartbeat later, her forbidding demeanor vanished, and she gestured to them all to come closer. "You, Lola, have received the gift of my own master, Hermes."

The blonde turtle girl's eyes widened and her jaw dropped slightly, but she recovered quickly, simply nodding silently.

"You, Hunter, have received the gift of Baast, the cat deity of great Egypt."

"SWEET!" She crowed, bouncing up and down where she sat.

"You, Spyra," Sensei Luna continued, turning to the brunette turtle girl, "Have received the gift of Puck, the beloved laugher and most sly of all the fey lords."

Spyra blinked, a blush darkening her cheeks, clapping her hands over her mouth.

"And of course, Diana already has the gift of Anansi."

Diana frowned, chewing her lower lip in thought. But before she could ask exactly what these gifts were, Allegra let out a squeak, drawing everyone's attention.

"A-and me...?" She asked hesitantly, shuffling forward just a few inches. The aging bat mutant slowly turned her head, her muzzle pointing down to Allegra, and her expression softened, full of pity and silence.

"Yeah, what about Allegra?" Michelangelo asked, looking from the dog girl to the old bat woman and back. "You said there was another Trickster, right? That Low-Key guy?"

Sensei Luna shook her head, her ears dropping low in a way remniscient of flowers wilting, and she let out a weary sigh. "Lord Loki, I'm afraid, is highly unpredictable and very selective about his mortal avatars. No, Allegra has not received Loki's gift."

"What?" Lola blurted out, brow ridges turning down in a sudden scowl. "That's unfair!"

"Alas, you do not have the reasoning of a Trickster god, Lola dear," the older mutant woman responded, "At least, not yet. My Lord Hermes believes that another Immortal, someone from a faction outside of the Tricksters, has already marked Allegra with their power. Whether or not that is true, I cannot say, not at the moment. Regardless, if all the Trickster Immortals believe this, then Loki will have refused to grant Allegra his gift. Chances are, given his specific nature, he may have refused to grant her his gift anyway."

"So now what?" Diana asked. "What are we going to do about this? Allegra's not been given a contract-thing with these Tricksters, but the rest of us have. And this Loki didn't pick one of us. And oh, before I forget, we don't even know that the heck we're supposed to _do_ with this contract stuff! We don't even know where we're going to be _staying_!"

With a swish of air, the blunt end of the staff rapped Diana over her head as well, and the older woman let out another impatient huff.

"So much spirit, but hardly controlled." She muttered, "Tell me Splinter, how in the world is it that your sons are so well-behaved?"

"Ahh, that is a secret that I may only divulge over a cup of tea, madame."

This statement was met with several looks exchanged between the turtle brothers, the sort that said they were more than a little weirded out by the interaction. But after a moment, Luna answered Diana's question, regaining her normal grace and dignity.

"Do not worry about where we will shall remain; Leonardo has already shown me an ideal location nearby where you girls shall house with me while I teach you how to use your gifts. And Allegra can stay with us, of course."

"Whaddabout Di's trainin' with me?" Raph demanded suddenly, cocking his head to the side. Sensei Luna's ears tilted back and forth, and she let out a small laugh.

"Of course, of course, Raphael," she said, a smile curling up the corners of her muzzle, "You and Diana shall be allowed to continue your training together. After all, I daresay you'll both need it."

* * *

><p>"You seem troubled, Miss Luna." Splinter remarked as he delicately sipped at the tea he held, eyes remaining locked on bat mutant. A few hours had passed before things had calmed down enough for him to finally talk her into that cup of tea. Her ears tilted back in response, quivering in a stiff way.<p>

"Beatrice."

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, lowering his voice.

"My name." She murmured, "It's actually Beatrice. At least it was until I became this."

"...you were human before?"

"Yes, I was." She said with a nod and a heavy sigh. "It was my lord's wish that I introduce myself under this ridiculous psuedonym. But I place my trust in you, Master Splinter, at least enough that I can share that with you."

"Beatrice..." He murmured, smiling and casting his eyes down to the tea as he swirled it around in the cup. "It is a lovely name."

"Thank you." She answered, another of those captivating smiles coming over her face. "And to answer your question, I am troubled."

"Is it about Loki not choosing Allegra to be his avatar?"

"Hardly." She answered, sipping at her tea. "Knowing the delicacy of the situation, Lord Loki has already chosen an avatar. We must simply await her arrival, and then the Web will be complete. And Allegra does not worry me; she has a role to play in this scheme of Anansi's, if I know anything about that wicked old spider."

"Then what is it that weighs on your mind so?" Splinter asked quietly. "I do not wish to pry, but I sense uneasiness in you. Please, feel free to share with me if it will ease the burden upon you."

For a long moment, the bat woman did not respond. She exhaled gently on her tea, then sipped at it a little more, the long, tapering fingers that connected to the membranes of her rustling wings holding the cup delicately, as though worried she would break it if she truly held it. Finally, her head snapped about sharply, facing the direction of Donatello's makeshift "office," where the purple-clad turtle and his younger brother in orange were carefully examining their young human friend as she sat fidgeting on a table.

"Tell me, Splinter...you have seen Diana Charday prior to this morning...is there anything different about her appearance on this day?" She asked in a conspiratorial whisper, and his eyebrows rose sharply. He took another glance at his sons and Diana, before humming a low consent, taking a sip of tea again before answering.

"She has a long streak of red color in her hair now."

"She is carrying the Widow-mark."

"Widow-mark?"

Beatrice gave a slow nod. "A very powerful curse, only capable of being cast by spider-gods from around the world." She explained. "It has a very distinct, itching sort of feel to the energy that emanates from the mark."

Splinter remained silent for a moment, countenance darkening as he let out another pensive hum.

"Do you think Anansi cursed her with the Widow-mark for forcing the mortal-avatar bond between them?" He asked softly.

"I cannot say that I am able to guess his reasoning behind bestowing such a curse upon Diana," she answered, "Nor do I think your son's science shall explain anything-"

"He still wants to examine it a bit," Splinter interjected calmly, "As soon as our friend Leatherhead arrives. Pardon my interruption, Miss Beatrice."

"You're quite alright, dear Splinter," she replied, "All I am saying is...we may never know Anansi's reason behind giving Diana the Widow-mark. But be warned, it is dangerous. It can deteriorate her mind over time, crumble away her human reasoning down to nothing but base emotions and primal needs. And who knows what effects it may have on her flesh."

Splinter looked at her in surprise, eyes opening wide. "Are you saying Diana could become a mutant?"

Beatrice's ears lowered a fraction more, going completely stiff.

"It is possible," she whispered, "But the venom of a spider bite can have unpredictable reactions and consequences. For now, all we can do is watch...and wait."


End file.
